


The Last Dragon

by Peanutbuttertoast



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanutbuttertoast/pseuds/Peanutbuttertoast
Summary: As Sixth Year starts, Draco finds himself branded into the Service of the Dark Lord after his Father is sentenced to Azkaban following the Ministry debacle. But during the Welcome Back Feast, Dumbledore's announcement of an ancient magic returning just might change Draco's future forever.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 32
Kudos: 57





	1. Sixth Year

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to their respective entities: JK Rowling, George R.R. Martin, HBO and anyone who owns the rights that aren't me. I'm not an expert on GOT mythology, that being said I will try and research cognizant points throughout lore but this story is not meant to be GOT canon, so please don't expect that going into this...it is just a plot bunny that wouldn't leave my mind so I decided to put it down. Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Edited as of 2-15-2021.

Traditions were _strange_ things.

There comes a time in every culture, society and individual where traditions are adopted at face value. We don't always remember why we practice them, or the significance of what they mean...but we embrace them as our _own_.

We believe in their value and the lessons they teach.

Traditions come from stories.

Stories of the past.

Of the people who lived them.

 _Why_ they suffered, _what_ they fought for, and _how_ they conquered.

But sometimes, stories are forgotten...or, perhaps not all of it is lost to the annals of History.

Sometimes stories becomes myths...

Which become _legend_.

And while they are remembered, it is not with the same reverence that traditions are, but with the skepticism inherent when faced with the cold realities of the present and future.

It is hard to look to the past, when you see no hope for the future.

Draco felt this keenly as he sat quietly on the train ride to Hogwarts, September First of his sixth year. He'd been branded into the service of the Dark Lord earlier that previous summer and as a consequence, had been given an impossible task to complete upon his return to school.

A task which would likely see him _dead_ before his seventeenth birthday.

He looked up briefly as the Carrow twins walked past him on their way out the the Slytherin compartment. They nodded to him which he returned politely, before his attention was drawn back to the scenery passing by outside the train windows.

Then in a flash, the entire compartment was flooded with darkness, and there were several students coughing and raised voices of shock...yelling out in fear and anger.

He stood up in a panic, his own voice clearly raised above the mumbles of his classmates, demanding in an authoritative voice, " _Who's there?"_

Blaise had also stood, reiterating Draco's words as his dark eyes tried desperately to scan through the dense mist.

There were a few more murmurs, cries and people shuffling, before Pansy said placatingly, " _Relax_ boys, it's probably just a first year messing around."

Draco looked around the compartment again, when the darkness finally faded, clearly not convinced that this was some random occurrence, but Pansy's voice was cajoling as she pleaded, "Come on Draco, sit down—we'll be at Hogwarts soon."

He stared around the compartment one last time, before he slowly took his spot across from Blaise and Pansy.

"Hogwarts," Draco scoffed, shaking his head slightly, "what a _pathetic excuse_ for a school. Think I'd pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I'd thought I'd have to continue for another two years."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pansy leant forward, asking with concern.

"Let's just say I don't think I'll be _wasting_ my time with _Charms_ class next year."

Blaise scoffed, causing him to sneer at his housemate.

" _Amused_ , Blaise?" He drawled arrogantly, "We'll see just who's laughing in the end."

He sat back and tilted his head subtly towards the luggage rack, when he noticed a case moving ever so slightly and his steely gaze narrowed.

It was about an hour later the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade station and Draco watched his housemates grab their belongings to head towards the platform where Hagrid was waiting.

Pansy turned around next to Blaise, her expression questioning and he replied to the unasked query, "You two go on, I want to check something."

It was a few moments later that the Slytherin compartment emptied completely and he stood effortlessly, reaching for his own bag from the luggage rack over his head and walked towards the compartment door...

Closing it completely and sending out a silent spell to shut all the other window shades simultaneously, so no one from the outside could see what he was about to do.

With his back to the open compartment, he taunted angrily, "Didn't mummy ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter...

He then turned and whipped out his wand in an instant, pointing it towards the same spot from earlier and yelling out, “ _ **petrificas totalis!"**_

There was a resounding thud, as a large object fell to the floor...it's mass protected from sight by an invisibility cloak.

Draco moved over and pulled down the offending item, and sneered hatefully, "Oh, yeah...she was _dead_ before you could wipe the drool off your chin." He then slammed his foot down on Potter's face, instantly breaking his nose and before replacing the cloak back over the petrified body, he snarled, "That’s for my Father! Enjoy your ride back to London."

Moving back towards the door, he swiftly grabbed his school bag and opened the door, striding through it in righteous fury as he walked alone onto the platform and headed towards the castle, but was stopped by an Auror patrol going through each student's items before they were allowed to embark onto the grounds.

That was where Severus found him.

"Draco."

The young wizard eyed his godfather with disdain.

It was no secret that the Dark Lord favored Severus now that his Father was rotting away in Azkaban. Logically, he knew that it wasn't Snape's fault for the disaster at the Ministry, but he also couldn't get over his anger at the fact that his Father was imprisoned and the Malfoy name tarnished.

Barely acknowledging his godfather, he went to leave when he noticed Potter and the Lovegood witch standing further down the path.

At least he was able to enjoy a sense of perverse satisfaction that Potter's nose was dripping with blood, even if he'd been discovered before the train could leave.

It was about an hour later when Draco found himself sitting down to the Welcome Back Feast and he couldn't help but stare morosely at his meal, pushing his food around on his plate with disinterest.

He barely had much of an appetite these days.

He did notice Potter coming into the Hall, his robes soaked in blood causing him to smirk when several people noticed the Boy Who Wouldn't Die. 

And from the amused look Blaise sent his way...at least one person knew _how_ Potter had gotten into the state he was currently in.

Then fucking Dumbledore had to stand up and give his usual pontificated welcome back speech.

The room quieted as the old wizard began to speak.

"Very best of evenings to you all. First off, let me introduce you to the newest member of our staff...Horace Slughorn."

There was a smattering of polite applause as Dumbledore pointed out the rotund man over his left shoulder, but most of the students just seemed confused.

"Professor Slughorn, I'm happy to say—has agreed to resume his old post as Potions Master. Meanwhile the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts, will be taken by Professor Snape."

Slytherin House erupted in surprised glee, while he just sat there disinterested.

The other houses weren't too thrilled with the news either, as everyone stared at each other in shock.

But Dumbledore wasn't finished.

"As you know, each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight and you have the right to know _why_. Once—there was a young man, who like you...sat in this very hall, walked this castles corridors, slept under its roof and he seemed to all the world—a student like any other. His name? _Tom Riddle."_

Gasps and murmurs fell over the room, but Dumbledore continued on...

"Today of course, he's known all over the world by another name. Which is why as I stand looking out upon you all tonight, I'm reminded of a sobering fact—every day, every hour—this very minute perhaps; dark forces attempt to penetrate this castles walls. But we're not alone. As I look out at all your faces, I hold onto the simple fact that as powerful as those dark forces may seem to be—there is _hope_ in the unlikeliest of places. One of the foundational truths of our very magic lies in the past. Before the time of Merlin and Morgana and Hogwarts itself, the most _powerful_ of all magic users hid themselves away to preserve and protect against those who would seek them out—their secrets... _their magic."_

Everyone stared at each other, and the looks of confusion deepened...

...it was clear that the majority of the students there—except a select few, who had heard the stories of the great Houses of old—knew of what the Headmaster was speaking of.

"Tomorrow morning, after breakfast—you will all gather out into the courtyard as we greet a most _welcome_ and noble guest to our school. A powerful _ally_ , who's magic is greater than all those who've come before."

Everyone stared at the Headmaster as if he'd lost his mind, but Blaise just lifted an eyebrow at him and he just shook his head subtly.

There was absolutely no fucking way that what Dumbledore was hinting at was true.

_No fucking way!_


	2. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts receives a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve read and reviewed or left a kudo. This is a fairly short story I’m thinking. Just something fun and different. I do like crossovers.

Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Avery (a seventh year), had commandeered a corner of the Slytherin common room that night, staring down anyone who dared try and listen in on their private conversation.

Finally getting frustrated, Theo set up several silencing charms and a strong _notice me not,_ as the four didn't want anyone to hear what they were about to speculate upon.

"Do you think it's _true?"_ Avery asked, eyes wide and Blaise scoffed.

"Please, we all know there is _no way_ any remaining Heirs are left alive after all this time. If there were, where have they been? It's been nearly two thousand years since the line was rumored to have died out when the last queen was killed by her own nephew."

"But what if it _is_ true?" Theo lamented with a wistful sigh. "Can you _imagine_ it?"

Draco just sneered. "I think the old wizard has finally lost his bloody mind. There were rumors for hundreds of years that Avalon was still out there somewhere, but it's never been proven. Not once. Dragonstone is even older. Don't you think if there were any living members of House Targaryen still left alive, that someone would've discovered something by now?"

"Not necessarily," replied Blaise with an easy smirk. "The magic of Old Valyria was _formidable_. We all know the rumors of the destruction of Essos and the dragon riders migration to Dragonstone. Those of House Targaryen were said to have dragons blood running through their veins. They can control dragons and not just any kind, but the progenitors of all dragons. Their magic was rumored to be so far advanced, that the Targaryen's were essentially immune to all forms of spells, potions and unforgivables."

"You don't believe that, do you, mate?" Avery asked, but Blaise just lifted a shoulder in response.

"Dumbledore believes it and come tomorrow? I'm thinking we're going to find out if what we are speculating upon is true."

"Bloody hell." Theo whispered in awe. "And if it's true?"

Draco nodded reluctantly. "Then there's no telling what's going to happen."

The next day after breakfast, all the students filed out of the Great Hall en masse into the court yard, which had been magically expanded to hold them all in a large circle surrounding the outer walls. Draco was standing on the far right with the rest of the sixth and seventh year Slytherins—as it had the best view of the Black Lake.

Potter and his retinue were closer to Dumbledore, who was standing in the open archway heading towards the outer part of the open courtyard and down to the boathouse.

It was at least twenty minutes later when a loud screeching cry was heard off in the far distance.

Draco looked out towards the lake, and squinted in the lowlight, as the moisture layer was quite heavy this morning and laying very low towards the water—making it look almost grayish in appearance.

Then there was another screech and a reverberating echo, as the menacing sounds got much closer.

He had of course, seen the dragons during the TriWizard Tournament, and they were fierce. The largest of the four was the Hungarian Horntail that Potter had faced, but the rumors concerning the old Dragons of Valyria—in particular Balerion the Black Dread (which was said to be almost 300 metres long), comparative to the Hungarian Horntail—which was only a sixth of its size...was difficult to fathom.

The loud screeches filled the air once again, and then in the distance at the other end of the Black Lake, three large figures emerged flying straight towards the castle and his eyes widened at the sight—even as his mind registered the screams, gasps, and cries of wonder and fear from the other students.

For coming right for them all, was three of the biggest dragons he'd ever laid eyes on.

" _Bloody fucking hell."_ Theo whispered in awe, as the lead dragon roared, its wing span probably easily over 150 metres wide and moving close to 250 kilometers per hour.

When they were right on top of them, Draco could clearly see the rider on the largest of the three dragons, and his breath caught in shock.

For riding on the back of the dragon was a girl...her hair flowing behind her, that was even whiter than his own.

The ear-mark of the Targaryen line—just like it had been for the Malfoy line for nearly a thousand years prior.

His father had told him once in confidence, when he was a young boy—that rumors of old had hinted that the Malfoy's were descendants of House Targaryen, but nothing had ever been proven as no one had ever seen a picture nor read a journal of the ancient houses.

It had all been passed down through stories and myth.

Legends of old.

As he gazed across the courtyard, he immediately noticed Potter and his lackeys standing front and center, near McGonagall while everyone else was staring up into the heavens watching two of the three dragons circling the castle, their wingspan larger than twice the size of a Ukrainian Ironbelly.

The third and largest, was now currently landing on the ground at the end of the Glenfinnan Viaduct and all eyes were watching the dragons wings flare, as it roared in warning several times before it gently cowered down near the ground, allowing its rider to disembark almost reverently. Its head then tilted towards the female, and she petted its snout lovingly, and then it took off back into the air, screeching to the other two dragons, who continued to circle the castle like sentries.

"Holy _shite_." Blaise whispered in awe, watching the figure moving closer from down the viaduct.

From here, Draco could see that the Targaryen female was probably not much older than himself.

She carried herself regally, her clothes were simply put—made for a queen. The outer coat was of a fabric and design that he had never seen before. There was fur trim, a red cape and a chain sigil with three dragons linked through the top end. Her trousers appeared to be leather and likely not dragonhide, (her boots as well)...

...but it was her _hair_ that had everyone's attention, so it wasn't exactly a surprise when a few of his classmates turned their heads towards him with looks that ranged from curiosity to jealousy to suspicion.

Then he heard Dumbledore address her, as he bowed formally.

"Your Grace, welcome to Hogwarts."

"Headmaster Dumbledore."

Draco's breath caught at the rich, polished sound of the young woman's voice.

Dumbledore turned and gestured towards the students, who were all staring at the newcomer in awe. The Headmaster cast a _sonorous_ and addressed the crowd.

"I would like to formally introduce you, Your Grace—to the staff and students here at Hogwarts, and say on behalf of all those here today—how honored we are to have you as a guest at our school."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Students, this is Her Grace...Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

There were a few startled gasps, but most of the students seemed to not fully understand the significance nor the magnitude of the person standing before them.

The young woman nodded and smiled slightly in greeting, but Draco was quick to note it didn't reach her eyes.

However, the fragile moment was broken when he saw Granger whispering something to Potter— who rolled his eyes a bit and then the Weasel just shook his head in consternation.

The Queen must've heard the comment, for her head whipped quickly to the side as she growled out, " _Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor."_

Theo hissed lowly in shock and Blaise's eyes widened, but he just smirked in satisfaction.

The Queen had just spoken in what was all likelihood, High Valyrian—and whatever she'd said, she seemed to be none too pleased with Granger at the moment.

Even Dumbledore seemed a bit surprised by the outburst, while McGonagall just shushed the Gryffindor swot.

Granger blushed, but she didn't seem to be overly contrite as she stared at the other woman unapologetically.

The Queen just tilted her head for a moment and sighed, before stating clearly, "A dragon is _not_ a slave."

Granger's eyes widened, but her shoulders sagged in what looked to be relieved understanding, while the Queen smirked for a split second before her gaze turned cold once again.

He then watched as Dumbledore led the Queen inside the castle, followed closely by McGonagall, Snape and Slughorn. The rest of the staff also headed back inside, while the students just stood there as if they didn't know what to do.

That was until the _Weasel_ spoke up.

"Looks like a long lost relative, Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes, before glaring at the idiot.

"Your ignorance is showing again, Weasley. Do you not _know_ whom that woman is? Didn't your parents teach you _nothing_ of the old Houses?"

The Weasel just seemed stupefied, while both Potter and Granger stared at him like he was speaking gibberish.

Thankfully, Theo decided to educate them.

"House Targaryen is one of the _first_ known western Magical lineages which dates back well over two thousand years ago—but the truth is, no one knows for sure how far back they go. The original Targaryen's were believed to have the blood of dragons coursing through their veins, hence why they can tame them...ride them. Their bonds with dragons are _absolute_. The Targaryen Heir was said to be called by many names... _dragon-rider, the dragon, the unburnt, breaker of chains._ It is rumored that their magic is so far advanced, that they are immune to all forms of spells. Even their dragons can't be killed, enslaved nor tamed with magic. They originally hailed from Old Valyria in a land called Essos, but migrated to the great stronghold of Dragonstone—where they ruled for hundreds of years."

Potter just stared at Theo in disbelief, while Weasley and Granger glanced at each other, unsure what to say to Theo's dissertation.

"It's _true_ ," He drawled arrogantly, "all ancient Pureblood families know of the stories, myths and legends of the old Houses and of those? None, was greater nor more powerful than the Targaryen's."

Their group had found themselves the center of attention, as many students from different houses had migrated around them, listening in on their conversation.

Avery had come over with the Carrow twins, Pansy and Daphne while Zacharias Smith, Ernie McMillan and Cho Chang moved over to stand next to Potter. Longbottom, Finnegan, Thomas and a few others from Potter's little clandestine club the previous year, had made to flank the Boy Wonder, whilst most of the older Slytherin's were standing behind Theo, Blaise and Draco.

"Malfoy's right," Neville grimaced, the words tasting like vomit coming out of his mouth. "House Targaryen is probably the oldest known Magical house within the western world."

"Then how come we've never heard of them, Neville?" Granger asked, her voice more curious than demanding. "I don't think I've ever seen a reference alluding to it."

He smirked, while Blaise just rolled his eyes. Theo even muttered the word, " _swot_ " under his breath, which caused a few of the Slytherin's to snicker, which caused the Weasel and Pothead to react like they wanted to say something.

"It's not something that would've ever been written about casually." Avery sneered. "Stories such as these are passed down in _some_ Pureblood households...so it's not something _you_ would’ve ever read about."

The way in which Avery spoke, let everyone know his views on exactly _why_ Granger wouldn't be privy to such information.

"Piss off, Avery!" Weasley snarled, but he just chuckled at how ruddy faced the red-headed was.

"What's the matter, Weasley?" Theo snarked out. "It's the truth and someone of your pedigree... _blood traitor status aside.._.should know that there are certain stories that are only passed down through the process of _Oral Tradition_. It's the way it's been for thousands of years."

Theo's gaze landed on Granger, and he smirked smugly. "Not _everything_ can be learned from a book."

Granger glared at him, but her face flushed in embarrassment too, and he had to bite back a smirk of his own at how flustered the little swot appeared to be.

Unfortunately, he was prevented from speaking further, as he caught sight of Severus walking down the castle steps and into the open courtyard heading their way.

The students were giving him a wide berth when he neared, and eventually stopped in front of their group.

"Mr. Malfoy? The Headmaster wishes to speak with you immediately."

Everyone standing there appeared stunned, except for Draco who had been fortunate enough this past summer to learn the finer points of Occlumnency from his Aunt Bella.

His expression was a mask of feigned politeness as he considered his godfather.

Potter, however...was incensed as he bit out, "Why would Dumbledore want to see _him?"_

Severus turned his fathomless gaze on the _Boy Who was a Pain in the Arse,_ and lifted a condescending eyebrow but did not answer the question. The only thing Severus did was wave his hand in the direction of the castle, demanding that he follow without delay.

Which he did after nodding to his Slytherin classmates, who all were openly curious—while the Gryffindor goody-goody's just fumed in righteous anger.

What a bunch of tossers!

As he followed his Godfather into the castle, his gut clenched in worry.

Why in Merlin's name would Dumbledore wish to see him?


	3. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys makes Draco an offer.

At that precise moment, Dumbledore was sitting across from Queen Daenerys Stormborn, his grandfatherly expression concerned.

"Are you _sure_ , Your Grace?"

"I **am**." The Queen answered back firmly.

Dumbledore sat back and steepled his fingers thoughtfully as his blue eyes twinkled, but the Queen apparently was not done.

"When I agreed during the process of our brief correspondence this past summer, to help you with your Tom Riddle problem, you must've known that I would need something in return?"

"Perhaps, but I must admit? This was not what I had expected at all."

"And yet this is what I _require_. I have not lived for over 1700 years, Albus Dumbledore, to be denied that which is _rightfully_ mine. If we cannot agree to terms? Then I'm afraid I will not be able to help you either."

He paused, as he considered that information and how he was going to turn this situation to his best advantage. 

Frankly, he'd been stunned when he'd received the missive over the summer from a woman who'd called herself the Red Priestess of the God R'hilor... _the Lord of Light_. He’d heard of the ancient sect that had lived in Asshai ages ago, but to have one standing in his office, explaining that Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen wished to open a dialogue with him?

Had left him _speechless_.

A considerable feat, to be sure.

"That is a long time to wait."

"It is," she demurred, "so you will understand when I tell you that my wishes will be met on this."

"And if the boy refuses?"

"He _won't_ ," Daenerys purred, "from what you've told me, his family situation is rather precarious at present, and I sincerely doubt that your ' _spy_ ' in the enemies camp has filled your head with empty platitudes in regards to the actual reasons why the young man was called into this Riddle's service. It sounds like a suicide mission, and I'm afraid I _can't_ allow that to happen."

The twinkle was back.

"You do realize, Your Grace? That there is much more to this situation than meets the eye?"

Daenerys stared down at the man's shriveled hand and nodded.

"Quite, but I'm sure whatever plans you've been mulling around to deal with that particular issue, won't be hindered by my request?"

Dumbledore didn't reply, but she didn't need him to.

She was here for one reason, and one reason _only_ —and if she needed to help this wizard with his little Dark Lord problem, then she would do so.

She'd waited a long time for this moment.

The door to Dumbledore's office opened and in walked the dark haired surly wizard followed by the one she'd come to see. As she considered the young man, her gaze became thoughtful and she couldn't help but see bits and pieces of her brother in the young wizard before her.

It had been a long time—decades really—since she'd given any thought to Viserys—but the Red Priestess hadn't been lying when she'd spoken a truth so startling that at that time—she had been _unwilling_ to acknowledge it for longer than she'd cared to admit.

For nearly five hundred years, she'd pondered the ramblings of Shenari, who had been a rather formidable Seer for the Lord of Light and a powerful member of the R'hilor. It would seem that prior to his death at the hands of her husband Drogo, Viserys had sired an Heir that was born just prior to Drogo's death and her migration east to Qarth.

And that son surprisingly, wasn't a bastard. 

His name _Valantys_ —and he had sired many son's, according to Shenari. 

The last living of which?

Was standing right in front of her even now.

And if Shenari's prophecy was to be believed, the last _true dragon besides herself to be reborn._

Her loyal Drogon..had left King's Landing and flown her body back to Essos after Jon Snow had murdered her. 

It was there she'd been revived by the will of the Lord of Light for one purpose only.

To fulfill her destiny and serve her penance.

Drogon had laid three eggs, and through the sacred ritual of blood and fire—every 200 years she was reborn anew (at the same age she’d given birth to her original three dragons) with a new generation of three. Their blood continued to meld with hers at each sacrifice and the symbiosis of their combined life forces and the will of the Lord of Light had made them all nearly invulnerable.

To magic, to steel, to fire, to poison...

To ice...

But she needed one last piece of the puzzle to complete the task that she'd vowed nearly 1700 years ago to fulfill.

"Mr. Malfoy, welcome."

Dumbledore waved his hand, inviting him into the office.

"Headmaster."

She smirked inwardly at the haughty tone of voice from the young wizard.

He even _sounded_ like Viserys.

Draco was pleasantly surprised to see who was sitting there with the Headmaster. He'd only seen her briefly and from a short distance but now up close? 

He realized that Queen Daenerys was absolutely _exquisite_.

Her long white hair was just a shade lighter than his own. Her blue-grey eyes were watching him closely, and nearly the same color as his. Her posture was regal, her presence defied true description.

And not for the first time, he had to wonder _why_ she was here.

"Might I formally introduce you both?"

Dumbledore was addressing the Queen and she nodded, as she stood and gracefully made her way over to stand in front of their guests.

"Your Grace, this young wizard is Draco Malfoy. Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy."

She lifted her lips slightly, and Dumbledore gestured to her and went on, "Mr. Malfoy, this is Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

He bowed formally, as he'd been taught to do for those who outranked him socially.

Which before his Father's capture and fall from grace—had not been very many witches or wizards.

"Your Grace."

She turned to Dumbledore and said firmly, "I wish to speak with the young Lord alone."

Draco bit back his surprise and glanced over at his godfather, who's own expression was impassive—while Dumbledore nodded reluctantly and he went to leave—before the Queen's voice stopped him cold.

"Albus, please do me the honors?"

The Headmaster turned and followed the Queen's gaze to where all the portraits of former Head's of Hogwarts were staring down with open curiosity.

Waving his wand, Dumbledore warded and silenced the paintings, giving the Queen the privacy she'd insisted upon and then he left the room with Severus on his heels.

"I do hope this meeting hasn't inconvenienced you?"

Draco shook his head, his gaze settling back on the Queen, who's own expression was stoic.

"No, Your Grace. Classes don't begin until Monday."

She then gestured to the chairs where she and Dumbledore had been seated.

"Will you join me?"

"Of course."

He moved over to the proffered seat and waited for the Queen to take her place first...which she did.

When they were comfortable, the Queen spoke again—her voice cultured, refined and elegant.

"You must wonder _why_ I have asked you to come and speak with me, yes?"

He smirked and nodded. "The thought did cross my mind."

"I see."

She considered the young man again, and the more she watched him...the more she saw Viserys in him.

She just wasn't sure if that was such a good thing or not, but her lips quirked in amusement, which immediately caught the wizard's attention.

"You seem amused by me?"

Her blue-grey eyes flashed, but she just hummed agreeably. "You remind me of someone I used to know a very long time ago." 

At the wizard's questioning look, she decided to get to the point.

"Tell me, my Lord...what do you know of House Targaryen?"

He thought about the question briefly and then replied, "It is the oldest known Magical House in the western world. The heirs to the House were said to have dragons blood running through their veins. The last Queen reportedly died nearly 1700 years ago."

"And yet here I sit."

"Yes."

"Shall I tell you a story?"

He leant forward and nodded. "I would like that _very_ much."

"Hmm...eager, aren't we?"

He chuckled. but his mouth lifted into a pleased half-grin of his own.

"Very well." She acquiesced. "Your Headmaster is _correct_. I _am_ Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of my Name. Youngest child of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella Targaryen. I had two older brothers: Rhaegar and Viserys—and the night of my birth, a storm raged throughout the lands of Westeros which had been unrivaled since time began. Unfortunately—my Mother died that night, bringing me into the world. My Father was killed by his Kings guard shortly thereafter."

"I'm so sorry." He replied, and Daenerys waved her hand delicately.

"Thank you, but my Father was not himself and hadn't been for a very long time by all accounts. There were still those loyal to House Targaryen, and because of this, Viserys and I were hidden away across the sea. When I reached the age of thirteen, my brother Viserys sold me to the leader of the Khalassar or the Dothraki as they were also known...a Khal named Drogo. He became my husband and in exchange for this boon, Viserys was promised the Khal's army so he could return back to Westeros and retake the Iron Throne."

His expression blanched.

How in the world could a brother allow his only sister to be used in such a way?

"I can see by your expression that such a thing repulses you."

"It _does_." He stated unequivocally.

"Viserys justified it because he believed himself to be the dragon."

"But he _wasn't_ , was he?"

"No, he was not." Her voice was firm, her eyes cool and resigned. "He made the mistake of threatening me whilst I was pregnant, and Drogo killed him for it."

"I'm sorry."

Waving her hand again blithely, she honestly couldn't lament the fact that her brother had died.

Viserys, as much as she'd loved him... _was too weak to rule._

"I was given three dragon's eggs as a wedding gift. After I lost my husband and only child, I took the eggs with me into the pyre whilst my husband's body was being burned. The next morning I was alive and my dragons were born." She tried very hard not to laugh at the gobsmacked expression on the young Lord's face. "Much happened in the years that passed after my dragons were born, however in due time—I did finally return to Dragonstone to take my rightful place back on the Iron Throne. But I was betrayed."

"By your nephew."

"Ah," she nodded, "so you've heard the sad tale. When I was revived, I was given a second chance to undo the wrongs I'd committed in life. I trusted the wrong people and as a consequence, made some very poor choices in the end. I have waited 1700 years to return to take what is rightfully mine."

"Which is?"

She smiled slyly, and Draco felt the tell-tale signs of his cheeks flush with pleasure at the frank look of appreciation and possession on the Queen's face.

"I am only sixteen, Your Grace."

"So you are." Her smile was indulgent. "But I would imagine that you've learned much in your sixteen years, yes?" He smirked and nodded, not needing it spelled out as to what exactly the Queen was referring to. "Tell me, young Draco—what do you know of the old stories of the Prince who was Promised?"

"I don't recognize that name, Your Grace."

"And the name Azor Ahai?"

His face fell in shock and Daenerys chuckled softly. "You see, young Draco Malfoy...they were once prophesied as one and the same. Azor was reborn as my nephew, Rhaegar's son...who killed me. I was brought back to life and because of this, Azor Ahai is destined to rise once again."

"As whom?"

"I think you know the answer to that as well." She sighed sadly as she glanced down at the young Lord's left arm. "You have _allowed_ another to brand you into his service."

He stood up reflexively, his expression fierce as he gripped his wand...a hex sitting on the tip of his tongue but the blue-grey eyes staring up at him fiercely, caused him to hesitate.

" _Sit down." She_ demanded, her voice not wholly angered, and he felt his adrenaline subside slowly—but he eventually did as she asked.

"How?" He queried shakily.

"Does it truly matter?" She replied impassively. "I am here to make you an offer, Draco Malfoy...and one in which you would be _foolish_ not to seriously consider."

"Which is?"

"Pledge your banner to mine. Become the person you were born to be. _You are Viserys Heir._ You are the last dragon left—but for myself."

"And if I refuse?"

She sat back and folded her hands on her lap, tilting her head in consideration as she spoke.

"That would be your right," she lamented easily, "however you should think long and hard before you do. How would you choose to have history remember you, Draco Malfoy? As a traitor, a _coward_..." she stood and leant down into his space like a predator, and her voice washed over his skin like fire. "Or a _conqueror?"_

Standing back up fully, the Queen glanced over at the time and sighed.

"It has been a long journey and I require a bath and rest."

"Of course."

He stood too and bowed in deference, but as he went to leave—a gentle hand on his arm halted his momentum.

The magic that pulsed throughout his body at the Queen's touch caused his eyes to widen and by the smug intensity of her gaze...she'd felt it too.

"I must _insist_ you keep this matter confidential, Draco. If you aren't willing to, please understand that my help will no longer be an option. I've waited 1700 years...I can wait another millennium or two if need be."

He smirked and replied, "But wouldn't I have to survive and bear an Heir, Your Grace?"

She moved into his space and then gazed up into his eyes, her expression open.

"It's not a matter of _if_ you survive, Draco—but _how_ you will survive. Without my help, you may not necessarily like the future that awaits you."

Deciding to press his luck a bit since she had willingly touched him first—he lifted the dainty hand of Daenerys Stormborn (and inhaling her sweet scent), purposefully placed a whisper of a kiss on her knuckles as he kept eye contact with her.

However, she just seemed amused by his display of chivalry.

"I will consider your offer with all due deference, Your Grace."

"See that you do." She bit back with half smile, and then she sighed wistfully. "You _do_ remind me so much of Viserys."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"You should take that as a warning and the _only one I am bound to pay."_

She then watched the young Lord leave the Headmasters office and she had to admit, she rather liked the young wizard.

Hopefully in time it would be determined whether he was capable of being the dragon he was born to be.


	4. Zhey qoy Qoyi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco runs into someone unexpected.

Draco had much to think about on his walk back towards the Slytherin Common Room—but the largest and most pressing thought that kept running through his mind was how in the world had Queen Daenerys survived so long in hiding? 

If she was here, that meant that Dragonstone was most likely real and out there hidden somewhere.

Likely under a very strong _fidelius_ of some kind.

To say he was impressed with the Queen was, simply put, an understatement. 

In all his years of mingling within the Pureblood Aristocracy, he’d _never_ met anyone who could hold a candle to Daenerys Stormborn. 

His Mother might be the closest, but he knew that even his mother would be suitably impressed with the Queen.

_His Mother._

He had to wonder what would happen when word of this got back to the Dark Lord. He had every confidence that the Dark Lord probably had no idea of the old stories and the old Magical Houses, but those within his ranks would.

His Uncle, Theo’s father, Avery’s Uncle...all within the inner circle, and all had grown up in the traditions of their forefathers.

Draco sighed as he reached the common room and gave the password, watching the door open and as he moved inside...he was brought up short with the fact that everyone in his house was in the common room—likely waiting on his return.

Theo’s gaze caught the his first, and he stood immediately—followed by Blaise, Pansy, Millie, Avery and a few others but before they could ask anything—he put his hands up to stop the onslaught he _knew_ was coming.

“I can’t talk about it.” Was all he said.

“What did Dumbledore want?”

He glared at Pansy, who’s arms were folded angrily over her chest and he inwardly cringed. 

They had been seeing each other casually for most of last year and he was fairly certain she was expecting a betrothal contract at some point this year, but that wasn’t going to happen now.

Not if he took the Queen up on her offer...

...and as he stood there and considered his classmates, he realized he’d be a fool not to.

“I told you, Pansy...I _can’t_ discuss it right now. Can you please just let this go?”

She huffed, and Blaise just rolled his eyes from behind her but his own smug expression told him that Blaise wasn’t fooled in the least.

He briskly walked past everyone and headed for his own dorm room, which he entered unmolested— thankfully. 

He took off his outer robes and set them down over his chair and then put his wand on the table next to his bed before sitting down and rubbing his hands down his face.

This was a lot to process.

Then there was a knock on his door.

He tried to ignore it, but whomever it was wouldn’t let it go so he eventually called out ‘ _come in_ ’ and wasn’t exactly surprised to see Blaise and Theo coming though the door.

“Can I help you both?” He drawled out sarcastically—and Blaise snorted, while Theo sat down on the small couch and stared him down.

“We just wanted to make sure you’re alright?” Theo offered, causing him to lift an eyebrow mockingly at his mate—not quite sure he believed that sentiment.

“It’s true,” Blaise sat down next to Theo, his own expression blank. “You seem a bit overwhelmed.”

He turned his head to stare off to the side.

“I’ve got a lot to process.”

When he turned his head back, both his friends were smirking at him.

“Is she as beautiful up close, as she was from a distance?”

This was from Blaise, and he just glowered at his mate, but eventually murmured huskily, “ _More than.”_

The two interlopers grinned, and Theo leant forward, his forearms resting on his thighs while his eyes were alight with curiosity.

“So?”

“So.” He demurred, flopping unceremoniously back on his bed, staring up at his canopy. 

Then a thought occurred to him and he sat up again and demanded, “Who’s written to their parents to let them know of this new development?”

Blaise coughed out, “Pansy.”

“Fuck.” His expression darkened.

“Yeah.” Theo grimaced. “She’s in a _right_ state. Everyone is speculating that the reason Dumbledore wanted to see you was due to our new dignitary. You do know, mate, that it’s been rather speculated upon over the years about where your family’s rather dominant traits hail from. I think it’s fairly safe to say that after today, it’s pretty much been confirmed.”

He didn’t reply, but he really didn’t need to.

Theo was _right_.

Most of those within their circle would likely draw the same conclusion.

He stood up and went over to his desk and pulled out a journal his Mother had given him prior to the start of school. It had a modified _protean_ charm that allowed them to communicate directly without having to send owl post or using the House Elves.

He sat down and wrote...

_**Mum,** _

_**I need to know if you’re okay. Something wonderous happened today. You will hear about it soon, and you’ll need to act surprised. The truth of the Malfoy Family heritage was confirmed today and I need to decide what to do.** _

_**I love you,** _

_**Your Son** _

Waiting until the ink melted and faded from view, he didn’t have long to ponder on his Mother’s response when her neat handwriting came into view.

**My Dragon,**

**This cannot be? I don’t understand how such a thing could be possible, but if it is? You must do what is necessary to protect yourself and our family. I will be fine, of this you need not worry.**

**I love you too,**

**Your Mother**

He sighed somewhat placated, closing the journal and placing it back into his drawer before standing up, grabbing his wand and moving towards his door.

“I need to clear my head.”

“We understand.” Theo said softly, his eyes full of questions. “We’ll keep an ear to the ground and let you know if we hear anything.”

He nodded and pushed open his door, ignoring the stares of his classmates as he headed out of the common room door. He didn’t know where he was going but he did know he couldn’t stay in Slytherin House right now, or he might just strangle Pansy.

So it was with no clear cut destination in mind that he found himself up on the Astronomy Tower, staring out over the grounds and the Black Lake. He didn’t see the dragons, and he couldn’t help but wonder where they were at, but as he scanned the perimeter of the Black Lake and towards the Forbidden Forest, he noticed movement near the far western border.

Curious, he left his vigil and headed down the stairs and through the castle until he found himself walking along the path that surrounded the lake.

It took him about two hours to reach the spot he’d noticed from the Tower, and when he got there—he saw that the edge of the brush had been disturbed, and there were fresh foot marks on the path heading into the Forest.

Unsure if it was a good idea to venture forward, (but something in his gut told him he needed to so) he followed the path into the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was about 30 minutes before he came to a small clearing that had a large tented area set up with smaller tents surrounding the edge.

Four smaller tents in all.

He was surprised by the simplicity of the encampment, but it was fairly clear to guess why it was here.

Then he felt something cold, like steel, nick him under the side of his chin and gazing in that direction, he was surprised to see three men, each vastly different from each other.

The largest was wearing clothing that looked to be almost primitive in nature. His stature was the most imposing of the three. His hair was pulled back into a very long braid down the back and his goatee made his expression all the more fierce.

The second man, was slightly shorter in stature, but no less imposing. His expression was amused however, and as he glanced at his attire...it was of a kind of leather. 

There was a knife of at his hip along with a sword.

The third man, and the one holding him hostage was the smallest of the three...but the fiercest. His head was closely shaved and his skin darker than the others. His attire was of that of a warrior and he seemed particularly angry as the man’s spear was poking into his jugular with unerring precision.

“ _Qilōni issi ao se skoros issi ao kesīr?”_ The warrior demanded.

He had no idea what was being asked, but was fairly certain the language was Valyrian.

Which was confirmed a moment later when the amused man drolly demanded, “My friend here asked, who you _are_ and why you’re here?”

“I’m sorry,” Draco murmured quietly, “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was walking around the lake thinking, when I noticed the tracks and came to investigate. I meant no harm.”

The amused man just quirked an eyebrow, but mumbled something to the warrior, who reluctantly lowered his spear.

“Do you make it a habit of wandering into danger?”

He smirked. “I wasn’t exactly aware I was doing so, but no...I don’t tend to go looking for trouble as a general rule.”

“And yet you’ve _found_ it.”

“Like I said before, I meant no harm.”

The warrior said something else and gestured to him, and the largest of the men just huffed but didn’t reply.

“Perhaps introductions are in order then?” The second man bowed mockingly. “I am Daario Naharis. My large friend here is Qhono and this erstwhile gentleman is call Greyworm.”

He bowed politely, replying easily, “I am Draco Malfoy.”

“Ah,” Daario nodded. “Not that I didn’t guess, because your hair is rather a dead giveaway.”

“Then I must assume you are here with Her Grace?”

“We are.” Daario replied easily.

“Is she here?”

The three men gazed at each other, before the man called Daario replied, “She is resting.”

He nodded. “Would you please give her a message from me?”

The man nodded.

“Tell her I’m still considering her offer, and will have an answer for her soon?”

The man’s eyes darkened, his lips flattening, but he nodded in return.

“I will give her the message.”

He bowed again politely, and as he turned to leave on the path he’d followed in, he heard rustling to his left and was brought up short when the largest of the three dragons poked its snout from the forest and into his direct line of sight.

It’s eyes fixated on him, as it huffed and trilled for a few moments.

He was locked in place and he simply couldn’t look away, so he didn’t notice the surprised glances of the other men, as they watched the scene with curiosity.

It wasn’t too long before the dragon turned back into the forest, and he felt the ability to move again. He didn’t look back but kept his eyes straight ahead on the path towards the Black Lake, leading back to the castle, his mind raging with questions.

Just whom were these men, and how long had they served the Queen?

Shaking his head clear...he had to wonder just what he was getting himself into.


	5. Life Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is avoiding everyone, and the Dark Lord finally discovers the truth.

Several days had passed and classes had finally started in earnest as Draco found himself standing in Potions, listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about their lesson for the day. Of course Granger, being the _know it all swot_ she was, had volunteered to identify all the potions and earned points for her efforts.   
  
It wasn’t until they’d gotten to the final offering that his ears perked up with interest.

_Liquid luck._

Now that could be a bloody useful potion to have, and all he’d have to do was brew an acceptable draught of Living Death.

Which didn’t turn out quite as easily as he’d hoped, losing the valued item to fucking Potter—who seemed rather smug, standing in front of the class holding the tiny vial like some kind of conquering hero.

Then there was the constant stares and whispers that followed him wherever he went these days. 

The Draco of the last several years would’ve relished in the attention of his classmates, but with the threat of his task looming over his head like a beaters bat, he was fairly certain he’d rather everyone ignore him like they’d done on the train.

And then there was fucking Potter, who’s narrowed gaze hounded him everywhere he went in the castle. 

He was always surrounded by the witless duo, who seemed to encourage his propensity towards stalking and it made him _seethe_ inwardly, that he just couldn’t find a spare moment for himself.

Luckily, he had kept in touch with his mother and she continued to assure him that there hadn’t been any word within the Dark Lord’s ranks as of yet...

...but he knew it was only a matter of time.

By the second Saturday of term after classes had started, he was sitting alone in the library pondering over his decision, when the one person he’d been actively avoiding plopped down unceremoniously in the seat across from him with a scowl on her face.

“Draco.”

“Pansy.”

“You’ve been _avoiding_ me.”

“I’ve been avoiding _everyone,_ Pansy.”

She huffed and sat back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest in irritation.

“Why?”

He really wasn’t in the mood to play games at this point, as he bit out a caustic, “Why what?”

“ _Why_ have you been avoiding me?”

His grey eyes darkened, staring down his former paramour with a sneer.

“Pansy, I’m not _sure_ what kind of answer you’re hoping for, but I told you and everyone else in Slytherin House, I’m not at liberty to discuss anything.”

She scoffed. “Draco, I understood that you couldn’t talk about what happened over the summer, but this thing with _her_...” Pansy spit out the word like venom, clearly not wanting to say her name or regal designation, “is _definitely_ something that concerns me.”

The smirk was back and he quirked an eyebrow, and then drawled arrogantly, “And _how_ did you come to that conclusion?”

Pansy flinched back as if she’d been slapped, her expression filled with hurt and he felt bad. _..he did_...but it didn’t change the fact that he and Pansy weren’t ever going to happen.

Not in the ways she was counting on.

“That’s _harsh_ , Draco.” She finally spat out. “We both know that our parents had expectations of us both.”

He coughed out a guffaw and shook his head.

“No Pansy. _You_ had expectations and you filled your parents heads with the idea that we were going to be something more than what we were. It was _never_ going to happen, Pansy. I thought you understood that.”

His former girlfriend’s expression was furious, as she glared at him, and her eyes were full of hurt and betrayal too.

“I would’ve never taken you for an uncouth _plebeian_ , Draco. I might’ve expected such boorish behavior from a Weasley.”

“I’m not going to get into an argument with you, Pansy. You’re my friend and I care about you.” At her scoff of disbelief, his posture stiffened, and he leant forward placing his elbows on the table, his gaze blistering. “I did and I _do_. But I’m _not_ the wizard for you, and we both know it. Let this go and move on. Trust me when I tell you that you’ll be grateful you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that no matter what happens going forward, my future is uncertain and I will not drag you down that path. We both know my family is out of favor right now. My Father is in Azkaban, my Mother is confined to our ancestral home for the foreseeable future. It’s up to me to restore my family’s honor.”

Pansy’s expression became thoughtful. “So this is you, restoring your family honor?”

He shrugged. “This is me _trying_ to decide my future and what that looks like.”

Pansy’s green eyes stared at him, as she bit her lip and nodded reluctantly.

“I just thought...”

“I know, and trust me...in a different world I might’ve been willing to try and give it a go, but that’s not the world we are in right now, Pans. I can’t protect you, if I don’t know how to protect myself and my family.”

He watched Pansy turn her head to stare out the window morosely, her face a concentration of thought and he could almost see her mind whirring away.

After a few moments she stood, and gazed down at him with a fathomless expression on her face.

“Just promise me something?” She said at last.

“If I can.”

“Just promise that you’ll make the choice that has the best chance of making sure you survive. I know that you must be feeling as if you can’t trust anyone right now, but you can trust me.”

He returned her look with a blank one of his own, but he nodded all the same.

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Good.”

As he watched Pansy leave the library, his heart dropped a bit at how much simpler things had been just a few years ago. But now, nothing was simple and the choices set before him meant certain life and death. He didn’t know how the Dark Lord would take it if he refused to accomplish the task set before him, and he knew if he began the task, Daenerys would likely rescind her offer of help.

As he stared out the window, his mind went back to the Queen as it had for the upteenth time in as many days—and the truth was, he was _eager_ to see her again. She hadn’t sought him out and he hadn’t seen her at all. She was probably still in the Forest with her dragons, waiting for his decision.

A decision he was no closer making today, than the day it was offered.

Opening his Charms book, he sighed heavily as he grabbed his quill and tried desperately to shut his mind off and concentrate on his studies. 

He wouldn’t allow his schooling to suffer and he needed to keep his wits about him too.

As luck would have it back in Wiltshire, a meeting was being called between the Dark Lord and his most loyal followers that weren’t languishing in Azkaban, in regards to the very woman he was currently obsessing over.

The drawing room at Malfoy Manor had filled quickly when the call had come. Severus had discussed the issue with Albus and it was decided that he needed to be the one to let the Dark Lord know of their newest guest to Hogwarts. Once the decision was reached, Snape had apparated to Malfoy Manor and had sought an audience with the Dark Lord, who had been abroad dealing with some business. 

When he’d returned, Severus had been summoned and the details of Daenerys Targaryen shared. 

As suspected, the Dark Lord had no idea whom the woman was nor the significance of her heritage.

So he’d decided to call a meeting amongst his followers for further clarification.

Which was why, as he sat at the head of the table, in the Malfoy’s drawing room, he found himself curious and annoyed that for once, there was something he was completely unaware of. 

He watched his loyal followers enter one by one while Nagini laid curled up over by the hearth, her beady eyes fixated on each person that sat down, and he smirked at how loyal his familiar was.

If she _smelled_ even the tiniest hint of treachery or deception, she would let him know.

Fortunately, the small gathering consisted of those free who were most loyal to his cause. 

Bellatrix of course, having escaped the Ministry by his own wand.   
  
Then there was Severus, who was ideally placed within the Order of the Phoenix and his most valued spy. 

Walden McNair, Godford Goyle, Vardan Crabbe, Alecto and Amycus Carrow and Thorfinn Rowle.

Once they were all seated, he addressed them in his hissing voice. “Welcome friends. I have called you here today as we have some news from Hogwarts. Severus...if you would?”

The wizard bowed and folded his hands on the table to address the rest of the group en masse.

“On Saturday last, as term resumed...a dignitary entered Hogwarts grounds by invitation of the Headmaster.”

“And just _who_ is this person?” Bellatrix demanded enraged.

Snape ignored Bellatrix by turning to his Lord and replying lowly, “Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.”

There were a few hisses from the group but for the most part, as Severus suspected, many within the Dark Lord’s ranks didn’t know of the stories of the Old Magical Houses.

Voldemort cocked his head in confusion since he did not recognize the name, but as he gazed out onto his followers, there were two notable expressions of awe.

“Thorfinn,” his red eyes blazed on his youngest follower present. “What do you _know_ of this?”

The large blonde wizard glanced at the rest of his comrades, and of those—only McNair seemed to be reluctant to meet his eyes.

Ah, so the wizard knew of the tales of old, too?

His blue eyes met his Lord and he replied cautiously, “It is an _old_ story, My Lord. Taught in some families, but not all it would seem, or perhaps it was simply forgotten.”

“And this story?”

Thorfinn swallowed, unsure just how his Lord would react to the truth, but from the low hiss of his snake...it was in his best interests to be honest with what he knew.

“House Targaryen is the oldest known Magical House in the Western World. They predate all of the Pureblood Houses here in Britain. It was rumored that their last ruler died nearly two millennia ago...a Queen, who was murdered by her nephew.”

Voldemort chuckled in amusement. “I fail to understand why this is of importance, Severus.”

Thorfinn cleared his throat and interrupted hesitantly, “The line of Targaryen’s are fabled to be _part dragon_ , My Lord. They literally have the blood of dragons running through their veins. They are said to be immune to conventional magic of all kinds and have dominion over dragons due to their ability to forge bonds with them. The dragons of Old Valyria; where the Targaryen’s originated from? They are not like the dragons we know of today. They were the _progenitors_ of all dragons.”

Voldemort’s face darkened as he turned his attention on Severus, who gazed back at him impassively.

“The Targaryen Queen, Daenerys Stormborn came to Hogwarts with _three_ dragons, My Lord. Larger than anything I’ve ever seen and they are bonded to her.”

Rowle swallowed and eyed McNair, who was clearly affected by this piece of news.

“ _What does she want?”_ Voldemort hissed harshly, and Snape shrugged.

“That is unclear, My Lord. I do believe that Dumbledore hopes to make her an ally of the light in his quest to defeat you.”

He stood in agitation from his chair and paced the length of the drawing room as he considered this new information carefully. 

Eventually he turned to his followers, his voice ice cold...“Do you think she would _agree_ to help Dumbledore?”

“I do not know, My Lord. Beyond their first meeting, the Queen has been staying in the Forest with her guard and dragons. Whatever she is after, it is clear that she hasn’t shared that information with Dumbledore.”

“And you believe she is after something?”

“I do. I can’t imagine she would’ve come all this way without a purpose, My Lord.”

“Then it is up to us to discover what she wants and take it for ourselves. If we can do this, we can force her to our cause.”

Severus nodded and as he glanced down the table, he could see the wary expressions of both McNair and Rowle. 

Eventually though, they were all excused and Severus bowed before leaving— but as he made his way through the Manor, a voice stopped him.

“Severus?”

He turned to see Narcissa watching him, and he bowed in deference to her.

“Narcissa.”

“Do you have a moment?”

“Of course.”

She opened the door to her parlour and waved him inside, offering him a seat which he took after a moment.

“Are you well?” He drawled and Narcissa nodded.

“As well as I can be.”

“What can I help you with?”

“Draco? He is _well?”_

“He is.”

“And his task?”

“He has been detained from that for the time being.”

“I see.”

She gripped her hands on her lap before she nodded slowly.

“The Queen?”

He should’ve been surprised that Narcissa knew of Daenerys, but he couldn’t muster the energy to feign any sort of emotion at present.

Sitting in the room with the Dark Lord would often do that to him.

“What of her?”

“Is it true?”

“That she is the Targaryen Heir?”

She nodded.

“It is.”

“And Draco?”

“I can’t say I know much, but what I will tell you is, Draco has a difficult choice ahead of him. If he chooses the path we both hope he does, then I will come for you as we discussed.”

He saw Narcissa’s shoulder’s relax, but she didn’t reply one way or the other.

“I should leave.”

“Of course. Give Draco my love.”

The sardonic lifted eyebrow was his only response as he stood, robes billowing and left the room in a hurry.

He needed to got back to Hogwarts immediately.


	6. Rule or Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Daenerys have a frank discussion.

“What’s _that?_ ” Blaise asked with a knowing smirk.

“It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.” Draco snarled, as he took the letter and placed it into his school bag and away from prying eyes.

Another week had passed, and he’d finally heard from his mother that the Dark Lord had been made aware of the situation and was looking into what Queen Daenerys was after...

...and he still hadn’t decided on which path to take.

Apparently, the Queen’s patience had limits, because he’d been summoned for dinner this evening at her encampment, and he was both terrified and intrigued to see her again.

If his dreams of late were any indication, he was far _more_ than intrigued by Daenerys Targaryen.

Dumbledore had taken to watching him from afar, whilst Potter was determined to be his shadow. He had no idea how scar-head knew where he was at all times of the day, but it didn’t seem to matter if he was at the Quidditch pitch, the library or wandering around the halls doing his prefect patrols...

...Harry fucking Potter was always there, just in his line of sight...keeping tabs on him.

_And it was really starting to piss him off._

Thankfully with today being a Saturday, and nothing on his agenda except school work, he had little choice but to accept the Queen’s invitation and had his owl send a note to her stating he’d be there by six that evening.

As the time approached, he found himself back in his dorm room, setting out his nicest set of dress robes and pulling out a bottle of elf made wine from his school trunk that he’d brought with him, just in case.

As he stared at his reflection in his cheval mirror, he could see the slight dark circles from the lack of sleep starting to form under his eyes. He still hadn’t started his task for the Dark Lord, and hadn’t been to the Room of Hidden Things to begin fixing the Vanishing Cabinet that remained buried within its depths, silently mocking him.

He’d received a coded missive from Borgin just the other day, with some information on how to begin repairs in general, on these kinds of magical objects...

...and that letter was now hidden in the bottom of his school trunk.

Staring at his desk, he walked over and pulled out his journal and quill, sitting down and trying to decide what to write.

It was several moments later that his hand started to move in conjunction with his thoughts as the words flowed on the page and disappeared into the ether.

_**Mum,** _

_**I’ve been summoned this evening, and have yet to decide even though I promised an answer. I don’t know what to do.** _

**My Dragon,**

**What does your heart tell you to do?**

He didn’t need to think about that, as he’d thought of nothing else but Daenerys Targaryen since he’d laid eyes on her.

_**Mum,** _

_**What I want is for you and Father to be safe. For our family to be together.** _

Her response wasn’t as immediate, but he knew that his mother wasn’t going to allow him to walk away from this chance.

**My Son,**

**Your Father and I are Slytherin’s and will be fine. You need to make this decision for you, and you alone. At some point the Dark Lord is going to realize the connection between the Queen and our family and if he does, there is no telling what he might seek to do. I wouldn’t have thought that there might be another way for our family, but now I have hope that there is.**

**Mother**

He sighed, watching the words fade and closed his journal, placing it back with the enchanted quill into his desk and warding it shut.

Standing up, he gave his appearance one final check then grabbed his wand, shrinking the bottle of wine and storing both items into his robes before heading out into the common room.

Unfortunately, the room was rather busy and as he emerged, all eyes were glued onto him.

_Fucking fantastic._

“Off somewhere, Draco?”

Avery lifted an eyebrow curiously, as he eyed his mates clothes.

“That was the plan.” He responded with a smirk.

Theo and Blaise just glanced knowingly at each other and he nodded to them, before turning and heading out of the common room door.

The walk out of the castle engineered a few more looks of interest, but for the most part no one seemed to pay him much mind.

A fact he was immensely grateful for.

The stroll down to the Black Lake, and along the path, took him a bit to traverse, but he did get to the same place where he’d been previously, and he found the large goateed man waiting patiently for him.

He bowed politely, but the man didn’t speak—only lifting his hand, silently telling him that he should precede into the Queen’s encampment.

Which he did without delay.

The sun had already set by the time he’d gotten through the tree line and into the open glade. As he entered the clearing, the perimeter of the camp was set up with small fires that lit the immediate area and gave it a soft, warm glow. The largest of the tents had its flaps pulled back slightly to each side—allowing him to see inside, where a small table for two was waiting.

He glanced around the rest of the campsite, and could just make out the other, smaller tents, as well as the figures of the other Queen’s guard—but what brought him up short was the visage of a new person...a woman, dressed in what looked to be long red dress robes.

When her gaze caught his, he shivered at the deep, knowing look she gave him.

She then bowed her head slightly, before moving back into one of the smaller tents.

 _Strange_.

Who was this woman?

Another servant of the Queen?

The man called Daario, came forward with the third warrior, Greyworm and he felt his body stiffen at the condescending smile on the man’s face.

“He finally returns.”

Draco didn’t know what to say, so he nodded—causing the man to chuckle.

“You don’t look too happy to be here. Why is that, I suppose?”

He bristled, his sneer finding a temporary home on his face.

“I wouldn’t make assumptions, if I were you.”

Daario laughed. “Oh? Am I suppose to be threatened by you, _little boy?”_

His expression darkened, as he didn’t understand why this man seemed to dislike him so.

Thankfully, he was spared further confrontation when a soft voice floated towards them, her tenor both amused and admonishing.

“Daario, that is _enough_.”

The man Daario, turned and bowed to the Queen, who was walking out of her tent.

If Draco had thought the Queen beautiful before, his mouth nearly fell open at how utterly transcendent she appeared tonight. Her hair, which had been braided back at their first meeting, was now long and flowing down her back. It’s whiteness nearly blinding in the low hue of the firelight. Her dress was also white, of a style and fabric he’d never seen before. The dress left her shoulders and arms completely bare except for a keyholes clasp around her neck. Her supple breasts were cupped deliciously and her figure was on full display, as the material clung like a lovers caress to every sensuous curve.

And he felt gutted to the quick at how even in his deepest dreams, nothing he could’ve ever imagined, would ever in a million years do this woman justice.

He bowed deeply in greeting, murmuring “ _Your Grace”_ with profound respect.

He missed the other men’s looks of amusement, while Daenerys waved them off...her demeanor uncompromising.

Draco stoically watched the three men leave, before walking over and offering his arm to the Queen.

She didn’t hesitate to take it, and allowed him to escort her into the tent where they were obviously set to take their meal in private.

He held her chair out for her, which she took with a small smile of thanks. He then sat down in his seat and pulled out the bottle of wine, enlarged it and set it down on the table near him.

“Might I ask what you’ve brought?”

“It’s elf-made wine, Your Grace. From a family winery in France.”

“Ah.” The Queen eyed the bottle speculatively. “Your Headmaster has allowed a few of your House Elves to attend to my needs and those of my guard, whilst I remain encamped here. They are sweet and helpful.”

His expression registered his amusement.

“Most Pureblood Home’s have House elves.”

“I see,” the Queen smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Perhaps we might begin this night by agreeing to address each other more informally? Please call me Daenerys.”

“Thank you, I would be honored. And of course, call me Draco.”

“From the constellation, Draconis?”

He nodded and chuckled. “It’s a family tradition to offer names to children after constellations. My Mother’s Family actually.”

“The Black’s, yes?”

He blanched, but nodded in confusion.

“Yes. But how do you know of this?”

“You’ll find, Draco, that my knowledge is quite extensive. I’ve been alive for nearly two millennia and have watched the world move on as a result. During my sabbatical, I spent much of that time following the path of the R’hilor and the Lord of Light. The woman you saw when you came into camp, is one of his loyal followers. They are called the Red Priestesses of the Asshai and her name is Amari. She is my Lady in waiting.”

He nodded thoughtfully and found himself curious about something that had been bothering him since he’d been here the first time.

Based on Daenerys expression, she could tell he wanted more information.

“For this evening, you may ask any question of me. I will do my very best to answer those I feel I am able to.”

His surprise couldn’t be masked, and he nodded stiffly.

“Thank you...that is more than I would’ve expected.”

“I don’t imagine these past weeks have been easy for you, Draco. I know of the task you face and the choice you must make.”

Again, shock.

“ _How?”_

“Perhaps we could save the ‘ _how_ ’ for a bit later?”

He nodded again, and then watched as Daenerys snapped her fingers and the food appeared in front of them. There was roast duck, fingerling potatoes and a side of greens. It was simple fare, but looked highly edible. He opened the bottle of wine, to allow it to breathe a bit, before their meal began in earnest.

After a few moments of eating, he set his flatware down and wiped the corner of his mouth, taking a small sip of the wine and nodding in approval before pouring Daenerys a full glass and then himself.

He watched as she took a delicate sip of her own, her eyebrows raising in appreciation.

“This is _very_ good. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Eating resumed for a few more moments before he decided to deal with the issue at hand.

“So, I do have some questions.”

“Hmmm, I thought you might...very well, Draco. Ask what you need to.”

Fidgeting with his fork, he set it down and gazed into Daenerys eyes intensely, as he queried, “Your Queen’s guard. Tell me more about them?”

A twinge of a fleeting smile quirked the Queen’s lips, but she responded all the same.

“They are my most loyal and trusted. Qhono, the largest of the three—was the leader of my _Khalassar_ , an army of 60,000 Dothraki warriors. Daario, with the silvered tongue—was the leader of the _Second Son’s,_ about 2000 men in all, and he helped me free the people of Slaver’s Bay before my migration across the Sea to Westeros. Greyworm, was the leader of my _Unsullied_ army...I freed them from enslavement to the Master’s and Slave traders of Astapor. 8000 strong, they swore their allegiance to me as free men. They all fought for me and when I was reborn, they swore their fealty and banner to mine until the Lord of Light feels my task is complete.”

He swallowed a healthy sip of his wine and swirled the remaining contents in the goblet, taking in the Queen’s words.

It was amazing that she had garnered so many loyal followers during her rule, but he could well understand it as she seemed to inspire loyalty.

“They are as old as you?”

“Yes,” she admitted without preamble, “they are my _dothrakhqoyi_...my bloodriders. My blood is their blood, and their lives are mine.”

“And they chose this of their own free will?”

“They did and they _do_.” Daenerys replied proudly. “Before I returned to Westeros, I freed thousands of men, women and children who had been enslaved for centuries at the whim of the Masters. When I made my way across the sea, I had hoped that I would be able to free the people of Westeros from the wheel that bound them. My mistakes were my own and led to my demise. The Gods have a saying about the line of Targaryens...that every time a new Targaryen is born... _the Gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”_

His expression was understandably confused.

“I’m not sure what that means.”

She chuckled. “It was a well known fact that the Targaryen Family intermarried amongst its own. Insanity was an unfortunate by-product of such practices. My Father was known as the ‘ _Mad King’_ and I’m afraid towards the end of my life...the tremendous losses I suffered of some of those most loyal to me, caused me to make choices that even now...I _regret_ immensely.”

“The Blacks have long been noted to suffer from the same affliction.”

“So you understand.”

“I do.”

The quiet stretched a bit more as they finished their meals. Once done, he stood and pulled out Daenerys chair, leading her over to a large seated area.

“Do you have another question?”

He nodded. “Have you been at Dragonstone for the last 1700 years?”

“More or less. It’s enchantments are such, that only those of my blood can enter the grounds. My guard has foraged for nearly two millennia to keep us fed and my dragons supplied with their needs. Now that I’ve made my presence known once again, I am hopeful that my days of solitude are at an end.”

“Daario doesn’t seem to like me much.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Daario doesn’t like the fact that my attention is no longer focused solely on him.”

He blushed, quickly glancing away for a moment.

His stomach dropped and he felt an irrational anger and jealousy that he wasn’t sure what to do with.

“You’re _lovers?”_ He bit out finally.

She shrugged. “If you like?” Then she smirked wickedly. “You can hardly expect me to remain celibate for 1700 years.” His eyes darkened and his brow furrowed, which caused her to laugh musically. “However _Draco_...” she purred, her eyes twinkling like stars as she grinned openly at him, “when I learned of your existence and what was to come, I felt the need to end my relations with Daario. He wasn’t pleased, but he understood from the beginning that my affections for him would never be more than purely physical. I care for him, but that is all.”

“And how long ago was this?”

She sat back and tilted her head almost coquettishly, replying easily, “Five hundred years or so? Time is a funny thing when you’ve lived as long as I have.”

He had to wonder if his expression was as gobsmacked as the rest of him felt.

_She’d waited 500 years for him?_

“I don’t know what to say?”

Waving her hand in that way she was wont to do, she just tutted easily.

“There is nothing to say really, except perhaps—where has your mind been these past few weeks?”

He blushed again and bowed his head in embarrassment, but she wasn’t having any of it as she scooted closer to him and lifted his chin up so their eyes could meet.

Her expression was considering, even as she watched his face avidly.

“There is no reason to be ashamed nor embarrassed by your desires, Draco. Do you _want_ me?”

That was a ridiculous rhetorical question as far as he was concerned.

How could any wizard, man or creature look upon Daenerys Targaryen and not want her.

“I’d be a fool not to.” He responded huskily, earning a pleased smile for his honesty.

“Then what is holding you back?”

“My parents. I need them to be safe.”

She nodded. “Your Father is in prison, yes?”

“He is.” He growled out angrily, not needing to be reminded of just why his Father was in Azkaban.

“And your Mother?”

“At my family’s ancestral home. Her sister...my aunt...is the Dark Lord’s most faithful servant. My Aunt Bella watches my Mother, and if I don’t fulfill the task that the Dark Lord has given me? My Mother will be killed.”

“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. Tell me, do you follow this Dark Lord because you share his ideology?”

 _Fuck_....he didn’t know exactly how to respond to that one.

Because he did believe in blood purity and he did believe that Muggles and Muggleborns were a threat to their world.

His lack of response had her expression shifting from open to almost... _disapproving_.

“I _see_.” She murmured thoughtfully. “That is...”

He swallowed slightly panicked, as he watched Daenerys stand and move over by a grated hearth, where a fire was burning.

He didn’t say anything, and since her back was turned to him...he couldn’t see her expression.

Then she spoke and her voice was almost _haunted_...

“You would see those not like you stripped of their magic? Or _worse_...enslaved to the whim of a master who is vile, cruel and unforgiving?”

_Well...when she put it that way..._

“I feel the traditions of my forefathers should be honored.” He offered lamely. “Those who don’t understand magic and haven’t grown up in this world, pose a threat to it.”

Daenerys laughed a hollow sound, as she continued to stare into the fire.

“Traditions are funny things, Draco Malfoy. One man’s tradition is another’s man’s prison. You would seek to subjugate a class of individuals because of their blood? Because their ideology doesn’t fit within the constraints of your own?”

She turned around then, her eyes fierce and forbidding.

“Perhaps, I overestimated you. Perhaps, you’re _not_ the Dragon I had hoped you would be.”

He stared in horror and his heart pounded in terror at the thought that she might rescind her offer to him.

That he might in any way, shape or form—be a _disappointment_ to her.

He had already disappointed his own Father far more than he’d ever cared to admit.

Coming in second every year behind a Mudblood... _Granger_...

But from the Queen’s own words of her history and her willingness to protect the people who weren’t like her...non-magicals by all accounts...he could tell that his views on blood purity would win him no points with Daenerys Stormborn.

Then he heard her sigh sadly.

“I think we need to end our evening here, Draco. But before you leave this night, think on something for me?”

“Okay.”

His voice cracked on the word, as he continued to stare at the woman who had come to fill his every thought to distraction.

“Is it better to prey on the weak, or to protect them? Does a strong man need to show his strength by rule or by _choice?”_

He didn’t know how to respond to that.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to forego his upbringing and all the things he’d been taught as a boy.

_Sactimonia Vincet Semper..._

Purity Will Always Conquer...

As he continued to stare into bluish grey eyes that were watching him emotionlessly, she gave him one final unfathomable look, before he watched her leave the tent.

He stood immediately to follow her, but when he’d reached the opening—the man called Daario was smirking condescendingly at him.

“Time to leave, pretty boy.”

He growled, but when he went to pull out his wand, a large hand clamped down on his shoulder and when he gazed behind him...the man Qhono, was smirking down at him and shaking his head in warning.

“Magic does not affect us.” He grumbled, and his mouth dropped open as he gaped up at the Dothraki warrior, before he bit out caustically...

“He’s lucky it doesn’t, or I would’ve hexed his smart arse good and proper.”

The Queen’s guard grinned back at him, almost as if he were genuinely amused by his outburst. When Draco glanced back at Daario, the man waved his hand back towards the path and without waiting for a response, Qhono directed him in that direction.

He looked throughout the encampment as he was led to its perimeter, but he could see that Daenerys was nowhere to be found and his heart plummeted within his chest.

He wasn’t sure how in Salazar’s name he was going to make this right.


	7. Curses All Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is cursed and Daenerys discovers a truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of divergence from canon, if you consider Cursed Child as such. All characters aren’t mine.

It was several weeks of solitude that had passed before Draco realized it was mid-October and he hadn’t done anything more than study, play Quidditch, do his prefect rounds, brood and escape to the Room of Hidden Things to check on the Vanishing Cabinet.

He’d kept in touch with his Mother and for some reason, the Dark Lord remained oblivious of the goings on here at Hogwarts.

He had to wonder if the Headmaster had something to do with that too.

If Potter had been a thorn in his side before, now he was like a knife twisting in his gut.

It finally came to a head one afternoon in the second floor girls lavatory, where he would often go to get away from prying eyes. Moaning Mrytle was a fairly good listener, and he’d lost count how many times he’d find himself in this very spot, talking to the sympathetic ear....

But now he was bleeding out from some Dark curse that Potter had thrown his way and his final thought before unconsciousness took him, was wondering why his Godfather was bending over him, chanting something he could barely make out.

Then there was _blackness_...and it seemed to be endless.

He didn’t know how long he’d laid in the infirmary unconscious for, but all he _did_ know was that when he finally came to?

His Mother was sitting at his bedside, gripping his cold hand...her eyes filled with love and worry.

When he glanced around, after his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room...his breath caught in wonder, because sitting on the other side of his bed was Queen Daenerys, her expression gentle and kind.

“Welcome _back_.” She smiled softly.

He swallowed several times, trying to get the words out but he couldn’t.

He then felt a glass of cool water being pressed to his lips by his Mother, and he nodded his thanks to her, taking a small sip and relishing in the wetness of the liquid sliding down his parched throat.

“Thanks, Mum.”

Narcissa smiled too, as she ran a hand through his hair lovingly.

“How long was I unconscious for?”

“Four days.” Was the stilted reply and he glowered angrily.

Potter had cursed him and left him for dead?

“ _How_ am I still alive? I didn’t recognize the curse Potter used on me?”

Narcissa’s gaze held the Queen’s for a moment, before she responded tightly, “Severus. The spell was _his_. One he’d created. Somehow, Harry Potter got ahold of Severus old potions textbook and found the spell.”

“So _that’s_ how he’s been doing it?!” He growled out with venom. “I _knew_ there was no way that git was better in Potions than me!”

Narcissa shook her head and smiled. “My Dragon, you nearly died and that is what concerns you?”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it...blushing a bit at the amused looks from both women.

“You call your Son... _Dragon?”_ Daenerys cocked her head with interest.

“Since he was a small boy.” Narcissa replied with a nod. “The name just seemed right.”

“I see.” The Queen replied, with a quirked tilt to her lips. “I am glad you are feeling better.”

He nodded jerkily. “I’m sorry about before.”

He could see his Mother’s confused expression, and by the look on the Queen’s face, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Have you given any more thought to what we discussed?”

“Some.”

“And?”

His gaze flitted to his Mother, and he could see the uncertainty there.

“ _Ah_ ,” the Queen’s gaze moved from him to his Mum, her expression distant and cold. “You both must know that your chosen path only ends one way, yes?”

Narcissa stiffened immediately. “You don’t _know_ that.”

Daenerys thin smile was the most condescending look he had _ever_ seen on someone.

“Lady Malfoy, I have been _alive_ for 1700 years. One does not get to my level of age and wisdom without having a few harsh truths revealed. Would you care to be privy to a few?”

Narcissa didn’t reply, but he could tell his Mother was shocked by the truth of the Queen’s age.

He’d never shared that little tidbit and he suspected correctly, that his Mother had assumed that Daenerys was a descendant of the Targaryen’s of old... _not the actual Targaryen._

“Would I be able to stop you?”

“No.” Daenerys clipped back. “Your ignorance is _unjustified_ in this instance. Your Dark Lord will leave your world to _ruin_ and all you love will be laid to waste along with it. The Black line is gone, with the death of your cousin. When this war is over, the Sacred 28 you seem to relish in will be _no more._ There will be no families left to sustain it. Harry Potter will emerge victorious in the end. But it’s the _how_ that end will be achieved, that is the salient point.”

“And how do you know this?”

“The answer is such that I can’t speak of it but...perhaps I might share a few things I do know, that might seek to convince you?”

Narcissa nodded reluctantly, knowing she really didn’t have much choice.

“Your Sister Bellatrix, will soon give birth to a daughter. _The daughter of your Dark Lord_. That child will grow up an orphan and will seek to use the Malfoy Family time turner some years hence...to go back to try and undo the past.”

He watched his Mother pale heavily, and he stared at her in horror.

“Is it _true_ , Mum?”

His Mother could only nod. “No one but myself, Bella and the Dark Lord know that the child she carries is his.”

“Well, that’s not true anymore.” Daenerys replied calmly. “Your Family will survive the war, but will be _outcasts_ in both worlds. Blood traitors due to your defection at the penultimate moment when you lie to the Dark Lord to save the Potter boy from a worser fate—and Death Eaters to everyone else.” The Queen’s gaze then moved to him, and she sighed sadly. “You will be _ostracized_ for your role in the war and will have no place here. The murder of the Headmaster, allowing Death Eaters into this school along with other more heinous acts will brand you as surely as that mark on your left forearm does. You will marry, and she will bear you a son. Your wife will _die_ in your son’s thirteenth year from a blood curse, and your son will follow a year later from the time turner incident. The grief and guilt will **consume** you, Draco...and eventually you will take your own life several years later.”

Both his mother and he stared in absolute anguish at Daenerys, who shook her head sadly.

“ _The Lord of Light knows all_. I am his vessel, and he has shown me your future. It was what I saw in the flames the night you left. I had hoped you would choose my banner of your own free will because you wish to make the world a better place. Prejudice, hatred, reckless disdain has no place in that world. The Dark Lord will bring this world to the edge of ruin and only due to prophecy will he be defeated. I will not intervene if that is the path you choose to follow. I will leave with my dragons and my guard and return to Dragonstone, to live the remainder of my days in isolation until magic ends and me along with it.”

“Why have you come here then?” Narcissa demanded.

Daenerys turned to the woman in full, her posture regal...her expression _fierce_.

“My reasons are my _own_. Your Son is the last Targaryen male of the direct bloodline. _He is my brother Viserys Heir._ I am _bound_ by duty to make this offer but I would be lying if I claimed that it was my only reason for making this journey.” Her gaze fell back to him, and her expression softened. “The only thing holding you back from being the Dragon you were born to be is _you_...”

“I don’t know how to be that man.”

“Perhaps right now it seems an insurmountable obstacle. But...you must decide for yourself and not let anything but your heart dictate your actions. I made the mistake once of foregoing my heart...my duty to my people for selfishness and power. I believed in my grief, that I was alone in the world and saw those who betrayed me as the fulfillment of that belief. I spent years in exile, with only my faith in myself to sustain me and in the end...I’d forgotten the one truth of why I’d wished to rule the seven kingdoms. Faith isn’t the end of the journey...but the edifice of the mountain one must climb to find ones true self. I can’t give that to you, Draco. It is something you must choose for yourself.”

“To protect the weak?”

She nodded. “And to rule by love and acceptance— _never by fear._

The Queen’s words hit him _hard_ and by the expression on his Mother’s face, he could tell she was equally as affected.

Could he truly put aside that part of his upbringing that had been fueled by his own self-superiority?

Could he cast aside the belief that all people, both Pureblood and Mudblood had equal rights to magic?

Could he set aside his innate fear of all things Muggle to build a better world with Daenerys by his side?

Did he even deserve that chance, after all the hateful things he’d said and done for so long?

He could see Daenerys watching him, her eyes alight with hope. She believed in him for some reason he didn’t understand, but desperately wanted to be worthy of.

He was about to speak, with Dumbledore entered the infirmary with Severus and McGonagall on his heels.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy? I see that you’re awake.”

He glanced at his Mother, who’s body language was radiating anger.

Even Severus had a sour expression on his face.

“Have you come here to tell me that Potter has been expelled?”

The normal twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes faded, and he shook his head slightly.

“I don’t think we need to be hasty, Mr. Malfoy?”

He glared and was about to say something blistering, when the Queen’s voice spoke up for him.

Her tone?

_Like fire._

“I’m _sorry_ , Headmaster? But do you make it a _habit_ to allow your students to curse another without proper reprisal or punishment?”

“Mr. Potter has expressed his contriteness over the situation and he...”

“Then let him come and express these sentiments to the young Lord _personally_. I for one am very _interested_ in what this young man has to say that justifies nearly killing another.”

Both McGonagall and Severus were shocked that someone would speak to the Great Albus Dumbledore in such a way, but his Mother’s expression was flummoxed and he...

_...well, he was starting to feel a bit aroused._

“Your Grace? Certainly you can understand that Mr. Potter’s situation is precarious.”

Daenerys eyes narrowed as she walked majestically towards the Headmaster, her gaze uncompromising.

“I understand that I _require_ Mr. Potter’s presence here immediately. We had an accord, Albus, or have you forgotten? Shall I _remind_ you?”

Dumbledore’s lips pursed but he didn’t reply, only bowed his head after a moment in agreement.

“Minerva,” Albus glanced over his shoulder to address his deputy head, “please inform Mr. Potter that his presence is required immediately.”

“Albus...”

“ _Now_ Minerva.”

The Scottish woman glared at the Queen, who returned the glare with the kind of surety born of her station and only when Minerva left, she quirked a slight smile.

“You have a champion, Albus. I sincerely hope you appreciate that woman’s loyalty.”

The twinkle was back, as Dumbledore hummed in agreement.

“Minerva has always been exceptional.”

Draco caught his godfather’s gaze, and them man just stood their completely emotionless as they waited for McGonagall to return.

She did, about ten minutes later.

Potter surprisingly, seemed a bit shaken up himself...but his expression was filled with his normal self-righteousness only faltering, when he noticed the Queen’s presence.

“What is _she_ doing here?”

“Quiet.” Severus growled, his black gaze blistering on the Boy Who Wouldn’t just Fucking Die.

Daenerys however, just sighed and shook her head.

“Mr. Potter, when I asked Professor McGonagall to bring you here...I’m fairly certain I meant you _alone_ and not an entourage of your friends.”

Everyone seemed confused except for Albus, who’s eyes were twinkling like mad.

“Harry?”

Potter growled lowly, and then turned to look behind him.

Then everyone gasped as Potter’s invisibility cloak dropped, and there stood Granger and Weasley...looking sheepish and irate respectively.

The Queen’s gaze moved from Potter to his friends, and she smirked.

“Loyal friends you have, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes.” He bit back snarkily.

“Do you make it a _habit to flout school rules_ , or the requests of your Professors and Headmaster?”

Potter’s face reddened, and Draco felt a smirk of self-satisfaction at how uncomfortable the git appeared.

Daenerys seemed to consider the Gryffindor Boy Wonder for a moment, before her gaze narrowed. She moved forward slowly, her eyes fixated by something and it wasn’t until she was standing right in front of Potter that her breath hissed out in a manner akin to shocked wonder.

She then turned the full force of her stare on the Headmaster and said coldly, “Did you _know_ of this?”

She pointed to Potter’s scar, and the Headmaster surprisingly, lowered his gaze almost as if he was guilty of something.

Potter, however...stepped back warily as the Queen glared at him intently.

“What?” Potter’s voice was petulant, but the Queen continued to stare at him...causing Potter to cower slightly.

“ _Emā se ȳgha ānogar sumby hen uēpa Valyria va ao.”_

Everyone looked at each other then at Potter, completely perplexed.

“Your Grace?” 

The Queen turned to face McGonagall, who had addressed her.

“This boy carries the blood shield mark of Old Valyria. It is _powerful_ magic. How did he get this?”

Harry stumbled back in shocked dismay, while everyone else just gaped openly at the Queen.

Even Albus seemed stunned.

He knew that Lily Potter had protected her son with her very life. She had used _old_ magic, and whilst he hadn’t known at the time the exact spell she’d used...he knew enough to understand that it had been a blood protection spell of some kind.

“His Mother.” Albus said softly, and Draco was surprised to see Severus flinch as his eyes darkened further.

“Ah, that would explain it.” The Queen nodded in complete understanding. “It was how you were able to survive the killing curse, Mr. Potter. I do wonder how your Mother might’ve found such a spell.”

Harry just turned back to his friends in shock.

He had known of his Mother’s sacrifice, but not the specifics.

It did bring another thought to mind.

“When I was in the graveyard with Voldemort end of my fourth year,” he and his mother flinched at the name, causing several eyes to roll, “he used a ritual with my blood to bring him back. My first year, our Defense Professor was possessed by Voldemort’s spirit, and when he touched me? He disintegrated.”

“ _Jorrāelagon se lentor.”_ Daenerys replied with a nod. “Love and Family. Very old magic indeed.” She moved closer, tilting her head in curiosity. “I would seek your permission to touch the scar?”

“Why?” Harry blurted back, flinching away slightly.

“An experiment.”

Potter looked over to Dumbledore, who nodded his approval.

“Fine.”

The Queen reached out her hand towards Potter’s forehead...

But what happened next... _no one could’ve predicted...._


	8. My Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys discovers the Dark Lord’s secret.

The collective room held its breath as Daenerys Stormborn reached out her hand to touch Harry Potter’s forehead, where his infamous scar was clearly visible.

What no one was anticipating however, was the violent reaction the Queen had when she came in contact with the scar itself.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body shaking violently and Potter was rooted to the spot, his own body quivering as he nearly buckled at the touch.

“ _Se ōdrio hen sȳndror iksis ezīmagon. Ruarza, iōrves, doru. Zūgagon morgho. Zūgagon morgho.”_

The Queen repeated the final words of “ _ **Valar Morghulis”**_ before she collapsed on the floor.

Draco yelled out her given name, as he watched her fall—happening as if in slow motion and earning shocked looks from Granger, Weasley, and McGonagall.

Several wands flew out, simultaneously trying to stop her descent—but due to her immunity to magic—it did not help.

Daenerys crumpled on the floor, unconscious.

Potter collapsed soon after, his body prevented from trauma by magic—and he was levitated to a bed across from Draco—who was valiantly struggling to get out of his own cot...whilst his Mother held him down...pleading for him to remain still.

Severus thankfully, re-sheathed his wand and gently picked up the Queen, moving her into the infirmary bed right next to his godson...who immediately reached out his hand and grabbed the Queen’s...his voice desperately murmuring her given name over and over again.

Madam Pomfrey came bustling out due to the loud commotion, and instantly scanned both Potter and Daenerys, and from what limited information her scan could tell her (at least where the Queen was concerned)—both appeared to be fine, but unconscious.

“Albus?” Minerva whispered in shock. “What do you think happened?”

The Headmaster ran his hand through his beard contemplating this new development. He’d had his own suspicions about Harry’s scar when he’d found Tom’s old Family ring hidden in the depths of the Gaunt Shack over the summer before school started.

It was protected by several powerful enchantments.

_But this?_

This was something even he hadn’t anticipated.

“Minerva, I think it’s time to get Horace up here. Might you go and fetch him for me, please?”

His deputy gave him a funny look, but did as he asked and approximately twenty minutes later, Horace Slughorn was standing in the infirmary, understandably confused as to why he’d been summoned.

“Albus?” The rotund man’s eyes widened when he saw the Queen and Harry Potter lying unconscious on separate hospital beds. “What is the meaning of this?”

When the Headmaster turned to face his old friend, his face showed the signs and stress of his advanced age. His eyes, which were always so bright—now shone with the dull ache of his weathered years.

He lifted up his hand and dropped the glamour, causing all within the infirmary to gasp in shock.

Horace just looked like he was going to be ill.

“I don’t understand.”

The Headmaster waved his wand and warded the infirmary silent, running a battery of detection spells before he nodded in satisfaction.

“Horace, I feel I must now be _honest_ with you as to why I’ve asked you to return here to Hogwarts.”

The portly wizard swallowed, but nodded. “Very well.”

“This past summer, I went in search of something. It took me a while to discover it, and it was protected by all manner of curses, enchantments and spells.”

“And it was?”

Albus looked over the rim of his glasses, his expression grave as he replied, “Tom Riddle’s old Family ring.”

Slughorn paled, and Albus nodded in return. “You remember it?”

“I do.”

“Back during Mr. Potter’s second year, a diary was found. It was the former diary of Tom Riddle and it possessed Ginny Weasley into opening the Chamber of Secrets.”

The headmaster glanced over his shoulder at the Malfoy Family, and their matching expressions of guilt let him know that they had at least some knowledge of what had transpired that year.

“I’m not sure I understand, Albus? What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Because, Horace...I do believe quite strongly that you’re in possession of the _very_ memory I need to determine if my theory is correct.”

Slughorn paled, and his whole body shook as he turned his head to and fro...

“I can’t help you Albus.”

“You must Horace...” the Headmaster clasped his hands together before pointing to both the unconscious people on the bed. “ _You must._..” He then clasped his right hand gently on the other wizard’s right shoulder. “If we do nothing, than we are complicit in Tom’s endgame. I _need_ that memory, Horace. _The real one.”_

“Albus...” the Potions Professor pleaded. “You don’t know what he was like—even then.”

“I **do** , and that is why no one outside of this room will ever speak of it again. But I need to know just what we are dealing with.”

Horace’s gaze moved to each person in the room desperately, hoping in vain for some sort of support but all he witnessed were expectant faces waiting for him to make his choice.

He pulled out his wand and tapped his forehead, pulling out the long white wispy memory and flinching when Severus held out a vial to take the offering. Placing the memory in the receptacle, Albus nodded his thanks and left immediately to go to the pensieve in his office to watch it.

About thirty minutes later he returned, ashen and tired.

“Headmaster?” Severus asked deeply, watching his mentor rub his temple in an effort to ward off some kind of impending headache.

“They are horcruxes.” The gasps and shouts of shock were to be expected. “And from what I can guess, he’s made as many as seven of them.”

“Surely not!” Minerva’s voice wavered in shock.

“What’s a horcrux?” Weasley asked in confusion, but Granger shushed him.

Now wasn’t the time to be asking questions.

“It would appear that the diary and the ring were two. I have no idea where the others might be.”

A soft moan interrupted their discussion and everyone’s attention was focused back on the Queen, who slowly opened her eyes to a set of worried bluish-grey ones, staring at her in relief.

“Hi.” Draco whispered with feeling. “Are you alright?”

If anyone was surprised by the tenderness in Draco’s voice, they held in their opinions as they all watched Daenerys gingerly sit up, her gaze moving from Draco’s to the rest of the room, until they fell on Harry...who was still out cold.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“About an hour, dear.” Minerva replied evenly.

The Queen nodded, sitting up fully and then rubbing the back of her head where there was a slight bump.

“If I may, Your Grace?” Albus asked kindly.

“Of course.”

“What was it you saw when you touched Mr. Potter’s scar?”

“It was flashes really. The boys mind is linked with another. I suspect it’s this Tom Riddle. But unfortunately that is secondary to the larger issue.”

“Which is?”

“The boys soul is fractured somehow? It’s as if there is a piece of Tom Riddle attached to him.”

Albus turned to Severus, his expression grim.

“Was there anything else, Your Grace.”

She nodded. “I saw flashes of items I have no context of. A cup with a badger. A locket with a large S on it. A tiara of some kind? A large snake.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes in pain.

Tom had indeed, made seven horcruxes.

The ring, diary, snake, locket, cup, the tiara which was likely the lost diadem of Ravenclaw and Harry himself.

“I think I can remove the fragment from the boy.” Daenerys finally said, causing everyone to stare at her in stunned disbelief while Draco just shook his head, but she gripped his arm...her gaze held a warning edge to it that shut him up.

“How?” Severus asked, intrigued.

“Bring him to the forest this evening at midnight. I will have everything ready by that time.” Was all she replied with.

“And the other items?”

She pursed her lips in consideration. “The tiara? I saw flashes of a room filled with thousands of objects...almost as if it was a large storage room?”

“The Room of Hidden Things.” Draco murmured lowly. “It’s here in the castle.”

“So that’s one.” Albus nodded, pleased. “And the others.”

“The necklace? It was hard to tell, but it was in a cupboard of some kind? And there was a House Elf. Very, very old. Murmuring to himself about his Mistress.”

“ _Blimey!”_ Ron whispered, as he looked to Hermione who nodded in agreement. “It’s Kreacher, Headmaster. I’d bet my chocolate frog cards on it.”

The Headmaster smiled slightly and gazed over to Severus, who turned and left the room...his robes billowing behind him.

“And the others?”

Daenerys stared off into space as she considered the cup. “The room, it looked like a vault. Gold, precious items...” her expression darkened heavily. “There was a Dragon, enslaved and chained...” her breath hissed as she stood up suddenly. “I demand you take me to this place at once, Albus!”

“Gringotts.” Draco breathed out. “But who’s vault?”

“It would have to be Bella’s.” Narcissa replied. “There is a security dragon on that level.”

“ _ **Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor!”**_ The Queen’s voice reverberated throughout the infirmary. “ _Where_ is this Gringotts?”

“Your Grace, it is in the heart of Diagon Alley.”

“Then I _demand_ you take me there! _I will not allow a dragon to be used in such a way!”_

Draco smirked as he could see that Daenerys literally wanted to stomp her foot in righteous anger.

She was truly beautiful inside and out and he finally realized what she had been trying to tell him.

There was no honor in lording oneself over the weak and oppressed. Yes, he was born to nobility, but was it the fault on another that they weren’t as fortunate?

They probably didn’t see it that way at all.

He’d spent his formative years being a braggart and a craven bully to those less fortunate than him, all because of what he’d grown up believing as truth.

But there was simply no honor in it.

And nothing good would ever come of it.

He gazed at his mother, and in her eyes he saw his own resolve staring back at him.

She understood his choice and was silently agreeing with his decision.

“ _My Queen?”_ He murmured, and he watched Daenerys back stiffen as she turned to face him, eyes widened in uncertainty. “The goblins are notoriously tricky to deal with, but going in there demanding is probably not the best way to get what you want.”

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she replied, “And what would you suggest?”

“They will either expect you to offer them an alternative of equal value, or they will demand you purchase the dragon.”

“Excuse me?” She hissed. “Buy a dragon? Like some kind of _slave?”_

He swallowed, but kept his cool. “Or there might be a third option to consider?”

“Go on.”

“Breaking in and taking the dragon and the cup.”

Everyone was stunned by the suggestion, but Dany’s eyes glittered and she tilted her head curiously.

“And just _how_ would you go about breaking into this Gringotts?”

Draco thought about it for a few moments, then grinned when he saw Potter’s invisibility cloak in Granger’s hand.

“We could use Polyjuice, but the thieves downfall won’t allow anyone past that point. Potter has an invisibility cloak that could allow you inside, My Queen...hidden under it. We would need at least one person with access to that level, or one of the Lestrange’s to allow you into the vault. You could then free the dragon of course, modify the memories of the goblins and guards.” He then turned to Weasley and smirked. “Weasley’s brother works at Gringotts as a curse breaker, so he would know how to get the dragon out.”

Ron initially glowered at the blonde, but then he shrugged almost amused.

“Bill does know the place fairly well.”

“And he would help?”

“I could owl him and ask for his help.”

Albus nodded, and Ron blushed when the Queen smiled widely at him.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Please do so at once.”

Draco folded his arms over his chest, pouting—but his Mother’s gentle pat on the arm had him rethinking his own petulance.

He didn’t like Daenerys smile being directed at anyone but himself.

“What about the snake?” Minerva asked quietly. “We know it’s his familiar.”

“Nagini.” Albus agreed, thinking about the possibilities.

The Queen turned back to the Headmaster and asked, “A familiar? Like a bonded?”

“Yes.”

“It was a rather large snake.” She murmured, pacing the room a bit. “Dragons and snakes have an affinity for communication. If we could somehow get the snake here?”

Narcissa sat up with interest. “He does send it out to do his bidding. From what I understand, it almost killed Arthur Weasley last Yule at the Ministry?”

Dumbledore nodded gravely. “That is correct.”

“Would he send the snake after me if he thought I was a true threat?”

Draco paled and shook his head. “ _No!_ You’re not going to offer yourself up as bait.”

“That is my choice, Draco, and one you need to respect.” She admonished softly. “Perhaps we need to start a search on this Room that Draco mentioned.”

“But, I’m sure...”

“Yes.” Narcissa interrupted her son’s rant, with the simple response.

The Queen’s lips lifted in appreciation at the honest answer.

“Your Grace,” Narcissa’s expression was wary, “I do believe that perhaps, I might be able to offer some assistance with the item in Bella’s vault.”

“Mum?”

Turning to her son, she just said, “When Bella was taken to Azkaban with Rodolphus and Rabastan, she left me in charge of the Lestrange vault. As far as I’m aware, I still have access to it. However, once I enter? Bella will be informed and I won’t be able to return home. Your Father will be left unprotected, especially if the Dark Lord or Bella suspects what I’ve accessed the vault for.”

Daenerys considered Draco’s Mother for a few moments, and thought about the information that had been shared thus far.

Perhaps there was a singular way to handle this that would get the proffered item, gain this Tom Riddle’s attention and free the dragon.

“Then I would suggest that we make haste. I will go with you to this Gringotts.”

“ _Daenerys!”_ Draco whispered as he shook his head in the negative—again ignoring the stares of the others within the room.

“I will be fine, Draco.”

Her gaze then landed on Harry, who was just beginning to stir.

When Harry opened his eyes, he seemed to be a bit disoriented at first, but after a moment sat up in his cot and asked, “What happened?”

“You lost consciousness, Harry, as did the Queen.” Dumbledore was quick to reassure him.

“Oh,” Harry rubbed his scar, his gaze fixated on Daenerys. “Did you...did it help?”

“Yes.” She offered kindly, “For now? I will let the Headmaster explain it to you as Lady Malfoy and I have elsewhere to be.”

Draco growled again unhappily, and Daenerys sighed before addressing the room en masse.

“Would you all mind giving Lord Malfoy and myself a few moments of privacy?”

He watched as the remaining people left the room, his mother included and when they were gone...he turned furious grey eyes to Daenerys.

“You really mean to _venture_ out?”

She sat down next to him, and took his hand within her own as she hummed in the affirmative.

“You need to trust me.”

“I do” He was quick to admit, “I just don’t trust anyone else.”

“Not even your own Mother?”

“Of course, I trust my Mother!”

“Then I have nothing to fear, do I?”

He scoffed, but his ire abated somewhat when he felt Daenerys hand cup his cheek softly.

“What were you thinking engaging in a duel here at school?”

Grey eyes locked with a bluer version on his own and he shrugged. “The git has been stalking me since term started. I have no idea how he’s doing it and I know it doesn’t excuse my actions...”

“No, it doesn’t, and I’d rather you not take such chances again.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not done with you yet, Draco Malfoy and I’d rather not have to worry about keeping you out of trouble. I’d have thought you were mature enough to do that on your own.”

He so wanted to stick his tongue out for effect, but by the amused expression on Daenerys face, she probably knew what he was thinking.

“You’ll be careful?”

“Of course. I will take Greyworm with me if that makes you feel better.”

“It does.”

“Good.” She rubbed her thumb along his cheek softly, and he leant into the touch without conscious thought. “Did you mean it?” She whispered.

His brow furrowed for a split second until the question registered and he answered emotively, “I _did_.”

“So you’ve made your choice?”

“I have.”

“And that is?”

“ _You_.”

His breath hitched as Daenerys smiled in relief at him. She then leant forward and captured his lips with hers...the touch too brief for his liking and as she started to pull away, he lifted his hand and cupped the back of her head, holding her in place as he took charge of the kiss.

And it was everything he’d dreamt it of being...passionate, consuming and _divine_.

Her soft, breathy moan made his gut clench and the feel of her tongue stroking his—made his cock hard.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes were stormy much like he imagined his were.

“Be safe.” He whispered and she nodded. 

As she stood up—her hand brushed his cheek again and then her mask came back down.

She was no long Daenerys in that moment, but the Queen she was born to be.

“I will.”


	9. Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys goes to Gringotts to get the Cup and free a dragon.

Daenerys had a quick discussion with Albus before she left with Lady Malfoy towards her encampment to locate Greyworm. They three of them would be heading into the small Wizarding Village of Hogsmeade to take something called a ‘ _floo_ ’ to this Diagon Alley.

Of all the forms of magical travel available, it was determined that this one had the best chance to get them to their desired destination. Albus was fairly certain that apparition would be a problem, and a portkey might not be any easier. 

Apparition would cause something like splinching to the magical party, if she’d felt threatened and a portkey might not activate, if her magic was such that it prevented it from doing so.

But the floo system might work...

So that was how she found herself in a tavern called the _Three Broomsticks,_ staring into the large hearth as Narcissa Malfoy showed her the floo powder and what she needed to do.

“Call out, ‘ _Leaky Cauldron_ ’ Your Grace...

“And if it doesn’t work?”

Narcissa just smiled. “You have magic, it’s just much farther advanced than ours. I don’t imagine your ancestors needed wands, but perhaps it’s just dormant.”

Daenerys sighed, ignoring the hard, disapproving stare of her most trusted aide.

“ _Keligon jurnegēre hae bona, Turgon Nudha.”_

Greyworm just grunted, but didn’t reply. He stepped into the hearth first, figuring if he was allowed passage, his Queen would be as well.

And if there was a problem, he’d be the one to suffer...

_Not his Queen._

“Leaky Cauldron.” Greyworm called out, and Dany’s eyes widened as he flashed away in a swirl of green flame.

Lady Malfoy smiled. “I will go next. I will come back and let you know if he’s there or not.”

She nodded and watched Draco’s mother vanish, only to return immediately with a relieved expression.

“He’s there and doesn’t look very happy.”

“He wouldn’t be,” she admitted, “he believes I’m putting myself needlessly in harms way.”

“He seems very loyal.”

“He is.” She admitted, and then watched again as Narcissa Malfoy whooshed away before taking a deep breath and stepping into the hearth. Dropping the floo powder, she said the words clearly and felt the pull of her body through the floo, only to step out a second later into another tavern that looked even dingier than the first.

Although she’d seen far worse places in her life than this.

“This way, Your Grace.”

Narcissa led them all towards a back wall, which was covered in a kind of stone masonry that she wasn’t too familiar with.

Then Lady Malfoy tapped the wall in succession with her wand, and Dany’s eyes lifted as the blocks started to move and soon, there was an opening in the wall that hadn’t been there previously. As she went to step through the passage, Greyworm halted her with a firm look, before he moved through the opening first and scouted the immediate area. When he was satisfied, he gestured for her to do the same.

Narcissa led them down the alleyway, and several witches and wizards stopped and openly stared at both she and Greyworm. In the distance, she could see a large white building with skewed columns that was clearly the center point of the alley.

That must be the bank...

Right before they were to head inside, they were stopped when a masculine voice called out Lady Malfoy’s name.

Draco’s Mother turned, her expression closed off as she watched two wizards move in their direction. One was quite tall, young, dark blonde hair. The second was an older man, dark brown hair, deep brown eyes and a goatee.

“Lady Malfoy.”

The older wizard bowed, but Dany could tell it wasn’t out of deference...in fact he seemed to be openly mocking the witch.

“Walden.”

The man, Walden’s gaze flicked back to the two individuals behind Narcissa, and his eyes widened in shock.

The younger wizard seemed equally stunned.

Ah, so they _knew_ of the Targaryen Family.

This could be helpful, she thought inwardly.

“Won’t you introduce us, Narcissa?”

Draco’s Mother turned her head sideways, an eyebrow lifted in question and Daenerys nodded once, allowing this concession.

“Walden McNair and Thorfinn Rowle, Your Grace.”

Greyworm went to place himself between the two wizards and his Queen, but her hand stayed him as she sized up the men, her gaze dropping to their left forearms before meeting their mutual stares of appreciation once again.

“Gentlemen.”

“Your Grace.” Thorfinn bowed and McNair followed suit, and she was surprised by the show of deference considering whom these two men likely followed.

“If you will excuse us? Lady Malfoy was about to show me into your Wizarding Bank. They have something of _mine_ I wish to reclaim.”

“And that would be, Your Grace?”

“I do believe that is between myself and the owners of this establishment. Please, do not let us keep you from your erstwhile duties.”

Narcissa’s lips lifted slightly, while both wizards exchanged a measured look between them.

“We would be remiss, Your Grace—if we didn’t offer to escort you inside.”

Greyworm moved forward, and this time the concession was allowed. He openly glared at the two men, who although larger in stature, were no where near as fierce and forbidding as he was.

“That will not be necessary.” Greyworm’s words still had a slight Valyrian accent, even as his voice dripped with venom.

“ _Turgon Nudha, henujagon se vali sagon. Pōnta can’t ōdrikagon nyke.”_

The two wizards eyes widened further at her words.

“ _Īlon nūmāzma ao daor ōdrikagon, Aōha Dārōñe.”_

Both Greyworm and Daenerys were brought up short by the words of the younger wizard.

Even Draco’s mother was stunned.

“ _Ao ȳdragon Valyrīha?”_ She asked quietly. “ _Skorkydoso iksis bona naejot sagon?”_

Thorfinn held fast under the Queen’s scrutiny, as he replied in the common tongue, “My Great-Great Grandfather found an old written history of Valyria, including some of the linguistics of the language. I’m afraid my understanding and speech is rather limited, Your Grace.”

“Your dialect and pronunciation need work, it’s true—but I was able to understand it all the same.”

“I must admit, both my friend here and I were surprised when we’d heard of your return.”

“I do imagine it might’ve been a topic of discussion.”

Both wizards nodded.

“Your allegiance is bound elsewhere, yes?”

“It is.” McNair spoke up. “But had we known?”

She sighed. “You _must_ understand, that I cannot allow things to remain as they are.”

“We understand.” Thorfinn nodded reluctantly. “And if we can be of service?”

“You would go against your bond to another?”

“The bond wasn’t exactly _willing_ , Your Grace.”

“So this wizard uses his bond to _enslave_ his followers?”

The two men bowed their head in shame, and she didn’t need them to explain the specifics—because their expressions said everything words alone could not.

“Then perhaps you might extend me a service on this day?”

“And that would be?” Walden asked, intrigued.

“Tell this wizard, who would seek to enslave those under his boot, that he will have to go _through me_ should he wish to rule this world. Perhaps you might encourage him to send his most _faithful_ servant to take care of the problem for him?”

Thorfinn seemed confused, but McNair just grinned.

“His pet?”

“ _The very one_.” She agreed. “ _Do this_ , and you will have earned my gratitude when the time comes.”

Both wizards bowed in acknowledgment, and left...leaving Narcissa stunned.

“Do you suppose there might be others like them?”

Draco’s mother nodded. “The Dark Lord is not sane. Before his death, his thirst for blood was tempered—but now he’s quite unhinged.”

“Then let’s not waste another moment and get what we came for.”

They moved as a group into Gringotts and Narcissa led her through the large entryway that had several tall pulpits on either side with a goblin manning each one. At the very end, there was a single dais that housed a goblin that looked more menacing than the rest. When they reached him, Narcissa held up her hand and waited for the little creature to address her.

Which he did after a moment...teeth bared and voice raspy.

“Ah, Lady Malfoy. What can I help you with today?”

“I am here to visit a vault, Gordak.”

The goblin eyed her, and then noticed that she wasn’t alone.

“And who might these people be?”

Looking around briefly, Narcissa noticed there were a few witches and wizards in the bank that she recognized. The most notable of them was the Minister himself, Rufus Scrimgeour.

“This is Her Grace—Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.”

The goblin glared, his expression clearly disbelieving.

“There are _none_ left alive of the Targaryen line, so either she’s an imposter or a baseless liar..”

“And yet here I stand.” Daenerys interrupted firmly. “If you doubt my claim, perhaps we might seek to allay your fears.”

“And how would we do that?”

“You have something of _mine_ here in this bank. I would be willing to, as a gesture of good will, accept this gift in return for your lack of respect.”

The rest of the patrons in the bank had stopped their transactions, and were now listening in.

“And just what would we possibly have that belongs to you?”

“Are you aware, of the Targaryen line? Of our magic and dominion?”

“It’s nothing but a fabricated rumor and legend. Nothing more.”

“Then you won’t mind if I attend Lady Malfoy with her business. If I’m not whom I say I am, then you have nothing to fear.”

The goblins eyes narrowed threateningly, while she just smirked and then continued...

“But if I am, whom I claim to be? I will be taking what is _mine_.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Then as I’ve said, you have nothing to fear.”

“Goblins don’t fear wizards or witches.”

“ _I am a Targaryen.”_

“We shall see.”

The goblin waved them to the back of the bank, and Narcissa allowed the Queen and her guard to precede her, noticing the awed look on several faces before she walked down to where the carts were. Once they’d arrived, Narcissa was surprised to see the eldest Weasley son waiting for them.

“Ron sent word you’d be coming.”

“You are the young wizard’s elder brother?”

Bill nodded. “William Weasley.”

“Yes, yes...” the goblin snarled. “Let’s make haste.” He turned to Narcissa and demanded. “Where to?”

“The Lestrange Vault.”

“And you have permission.”

“My sister left me in charge of her vault.”

“Very well.”

They all entered the cart, and soon it was speeding down the track. Daenerys and Greyworm watched in awe as the cart moved quickly down into the bowels of the bank. When they moved through the waterfall, she heard William Weasley explain the Thieves Downfall and how it wipes away all magical enchantments.

A few moments later the cart stopped near an outcropping of stone pillars, and Daenerys felt her hackles rise as they walked into a large amphitheater, and as her vision had shown...there was a white dragon chained to the side of the rock edifice. 

The dragon roared, but when the goblin went to reach for something in a box, and start to shake it, the dragon cowered back in fear.

She grabbed the item and threw it behind them, snarling at the goblin in anger.

“ _Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor!”_

Turning to the small group, she held up her hand.

“Stay here.”

Greyworm nodded, and pushed their entourage behind a column, but they were still visible and could see everything.

The dragon, once the offending sound had stopped—roared again, but she just moved into the opening unafraid, and like magic...the dragon stopped its bellowing immediately, and sniffed the air curiously.

She could tell immediately that the dragon couldn’t see well, but he could still use his other senses. As she moved closer, the dragon continued to trill, as it sniffed the air. When she was close enough, she lowered her voice and made a similar sound, causing the white dragon to lower its snout in her direction.

Bill and Gordak were stunned. 

Bill had received the letter from his brother, and had been skeptical about the Dragon Queen, but here and now?

He was completely flummoxed.

“She _really_ is a Targaryen.” Bill whispered in wonder, causing Greyworm to look over and reply, “She _is_.”

Bill nodded, and they all watched Daenerys gently soothe the dragon, who allowed the concession. His snout was pushed into the Queen’s hands and he was happily chuffing, as she petted him. When she glanced over her shoulder and nodded, the rest of the group moved out into the open.

“I will expect you to release him.”

“And where would you recommend we keep him?” Gordak sneered.

Bill just rolled his eyes. “My brother Charlie works on a Dragon Preserve, Your Grace.”

She tilted her head in confusion.

“A Preserve?”

“Yes,” Bill replied, “it’s a sanctuary where dragons are protected and studied.”

She then shared a long look with her guard. “And just where is this sanctuary located?”

“In Romania.”

“I’m not familiar with that place, but no matter. He is too weak to fly back home with me, but he needs care now. If your brother can make arrangements to come and take him immediately, then I would be willing to trust you in this but be advised? If he is harmed, I will make my own displeasure _known_.”

Bill bowed his head in understanding. “Charlie has spent his whole life serving dragons and their needs. He’s the best at what he does and he’d never harm or allow another to harm a dragon.”

“Very well,” she finally conceded, “please make whatever arrangements are necessary and release him from his shackles immediately.”

Gordak bristled but she stared him down. “ _He is not yours to command nor enslave_ and I have communicated as such. If you do not comply, I will have him turn to ash any wizard, goblin or creature that enters this place. He will no longer fear nor obey you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She smiled sharply, before she petted the dragons snout again and made a few more sounds. The dragon turned its attention towards the goblin and snarled.

“All I have to do is give the command.”

In that moment, more carts stopped on the ledge and several other goblins and wizards stepped out looking murderous.

She just shook her head, giving Greyworm a wordless command, and watched as her guard moved Draco’s mother and the red-headed wizard out of the line of fire.

There were about fifteen goblins and six wizards in all, and she just stood there staring at them en masse, while Gordak grinned ferally.

“I’m afraid we are going to have to politely decline your demand.”

She sighed. “Very well.” She petted the dragons snout one final time and then stepped to the side, stating clearly, “ _Dracarys_.”

The white dragon wasted no time heeding the command as he roared and turned Gordak to ash. The remaining goblins cowered in fear as they took several steps back, staring in horror at the place where their former comrade had been.

Then several spells were thrown in her direction and each fell as harmlessly off her as the last. When the Wizarding guard realized that their spells were essentially useless, they too, cowered back in fear.

She then moved forward and addressed the horde.

“ _I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria—I am the dragons daughter.”_ She moved regally towards her quarry, as the dragon behind her crouched down ready to defend if need be. “And you will _lower_ your wands and not interfere again. I will take what is mine and defend it as is my right. _I am the Dragon Queen, the unburnt, the breaker of chains and the mother of dragons._ If you raise a wand or hand to what is mine again, I will spare you no mercy.”

The dragon behind her roared in agreement, snorting out smoke.

She turned to Bill and said commandingly. “Release him, _now_.”

Bill nodded and waved his wand, releasing the Ukrainian Ironbelly from his shackles. The dragon moved up and chuffed loudly, extending his wings happily before moving back down and pushing his snout into the Queen, who just smiled in amusement.

“We have bade here long enough Mr. Weasley. Please take Lady Malfoy to her destination. You will find what your looking for on the top right shelf towards the back.”

Narcissa nodded and followed Bill, who took her over to where the Lestrange Vault was located. Several minutes later they returned, Draco’s mother nodding that the task was done.

“Mr. Weasley, I will expect you to stay with my child here until he is transported out of this place.”

Bill nodded, and took in the expressions of his fellow wizards and goblins whom he’d worked with for many years.

They were all standing there utterly dumbfounded.

“You will _never_ again use a dragon in such a manner, do I make myself clear?”

The group nodded as one, causing her to look quite pleased with herself for a moment before she sighed.

“I regret the loss of your comrade. If there is another goblin in charge here, who can speak for your kind let him come forward and parlay.”

A smaller goblin, who was not much younger than the first stepped forward and bowed humbly.

“And you are?”

“I am Blordak, Your Grace.”

“And you are in charge?”

The goblin nodded reluctantly. “I am now.”

“And you would seek to treat with me? Or would you seek to make me an enemy?”

“No, Your Grace. The goblin nation here at Gringotts would consider it well if we could reach an accord.”

“Then abide my judgement and vow to harm no other of my blood.”

“We shall vow it, Your Grace.”

“Then I will hold you to that vow. Speak not of this, Blordak to any who would ask and you all here, are sworn to secrecy. Do you so vow it?”

All the goblins, and wizards vowed and she nodded her thanks. She then moved over to the dragon and gave him once final stroke of affection.

“I will see you soon, my child.”

The dragon snorted, trilled and chuffed happily. She then waved Bill over, and the wizard moved cautiously as he stood next to her.

“Please offer me your hand, Mr. Weasley.”

Bill did as instructed, and watched in awe as the Queen took his hand and brought it to the snout of the dragon, allowing it to sniff him.

“This one will protect you until help arrives.”

The dragon snorted, but seemed to understand the sentiment as he lowered his snout complacently.

“I will expect a reporting when it is done.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Valyrian dialect:  
> Daenerys: stand back greyworm, they can’t harm me
> 
> Thorfinn: we would not harm you, Your Grace
> 
> Daenerys: you speak Valyrian? How can this be?


	10. A Bit Of Context

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys returns to Hogwarts.

When they returned to Hogwarts infirmary some hours later, it was to the sight of a large group of people milling about, many of them Daenerys had never seen before.

When her gaze finally landed on Draco, he was sitting up in his cot, being attended to by a black-haired witch with a turned up nose.

Her eyes narrowed, and it was in that instant that Draco glanced up and caught her gaze.

Which was very clearly, _unhappy_.

“Pansy, I told you before I don’t need you mothering over me. I already _have_ a mother.”

“Yes, you do.” Narcissa’s voice sounded over the room, and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch Lady Malfoy and the Queen move regally into the room together.

Pansy moved back quickly, her gaze flickering over Draco’s mother before they settled on the woman who had usurped her spot as Draco’s paramour.

“It is good to see you sitting up and looking better.” Narcissa lowered down to kiss her son on the top of his head.

“I’m fine, Mum. Madame Pomfrey said that I could leave as soon as you returned.”

“Did you get the item?” Dumbledore inquired, as he and Severus moved over.

“We did.”

Narcissa opened her robes and pulled out said item, that was wrapped in a silk handkerchief.

“Were you able to track down the other items?” Daenerys inquired, as she glided effortlessly, followed by her guard to where Draco was still ensconced. He smiled in welcome and patted the side of his bed so she could make herself comfortable, which to everyone’s surprise—she did.

“We were able to procure the locket. Severus found it hidden in a cupboard at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher, the House Elf was quite insistent it not be taken, and I’m afraid Severus had to sedate him.”

There was an unhappy hiss behind them, and when Daenerys looked over in the direction the sound had come from—it was to the young woman with brown curly hair. The eye rolls of those present let her know that not everyone shared this person’s feelings on abuse towards Magical Creatures.

“I trust you left the creature unharmed?”

“I only used a _somnus_ charm, Your Grace. Placed him asleep.”

“Very well.”

Draco reached for her hand, and she easily allowed the intimacy as she inquired about the tiara.

“I told them where I thought it might be,” Draco admitted with a sigh, “and they were able to track it down.”

“Lucky us.” Harry snarked, causing Draco to sneer at him.

“It was actually.” Dumbledore agreed, ignoring Potter’s unhappy scowl. “Now all we need to worry about is the snake.”

“I believe I’ve taken care of that particular issue,” she smiled slyly, “and if I’m right, your Tom Riddle should be informed of my visit to Diagon Alley as we speak and will likely send the snake to the grounds to attack me.”

“Daenerys.” Draco’s voice was both angry and worried, but she just shook her head.

“It’s not for you to fret.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t mean it as such, Draco—but you do need to allow this to happen. We need the snake here and it’s only a matter of time before your Aunt realizes just what was taken from her vault.”

He didn’t look happy, but apparently he was outvoted so he remained silent for the time being.

“I will have the items taken to my encampment.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, Your Grace?”

“Yes,” she stated unequivocally, “my guards are impervious to spells, and poisons. I highly doubt anyone could get past Greyworm.”

The expression on the dark-skinned guard’s face, let everyone know he would die before failing his Queen.

“Very well.”

Dumbledore handed over the items that were now sequestered away in a moleskin satchel. Greyworm took the bag and nodded firmly, before heading out to return to the encampment. 

Between he, Daario and Qhono—nothing and no one would get near those items.

“He’s rather formidable.” Dumbledore mused.

“He was the greatest warrior within the ranks of my armies. Do not let his size fool you. I’ve seen him take down the most fearsome foes and live to tell the tale.”

“What kind of enemies could he have faced that are worse than Death Eaters?” Harry demanded, his expression disbelieving.

The Queen’s bright gaze landed on him before she replied frostily, “ _The Army of the Dead.”_

Everyone’s expressions ranged from shocked to confused.

“I’m sorry, but what is the Army of the Dead?” Ron queried. “Like Inferi?”

She turned to the Headmaster and asked, “Inferi?”

“It is a dead body that is reanimated through a division of Dark Magic called Necromancy. In theory, the wizard who performs the spells can control the Inferi and have them do his bidding.”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded slowly before turning back to the young wizard. “The Army of the Dead was led by the Night King. He was the leader of the White Walkers. He was said to have existed since the age of the First Men, and used magic to change the living instantly from alive to dead and bring the dead back to life.”

“And how many did he have in his army?” Draco asked quietly, feeling Daenerys tension.

“A hundred thousand easily.”

The shocked gasps filled the room.

“There was a time long ago, when the dominion of all men and that of the White Walkers were separated by a large impenetrable barrier. But, for reasons too lengthy to get into, the Night King found a way through this barrier and invaded the world of men. A great battle took place between his army and mine.”

“Did you win?”

“Yes, but the losses were _tremendous_. Two of my dragons, my most trusted friend Jorah—who sacrificed his very life to save mine. I also lost half my unsullied army and a portion of my Dothraki army.”

The room was quiet for a while, before Draco spoke up. “How did you defeat him?”

“If the Night King dies, his army dies with him. He was vanquished by a singular warrior—through cunning, skill and bravery. Had it not been for her, in all likelihood we would’ve perished.”

“Her?”

“Yes. Her name was Arya Stark.”

He noticed Daenerys expression closed off, and he squeezed her hand a bit tighter getting her attention.

“These people you helped? Were they magical?”

She shook her head. “No they weren’t. At least not the majority. But I came to their aide at the behest of my nephew, and I had a duty to protect them even at so great a cost. I lost two of my children. One to the Night King, and another due to my own arrogance. Viserion was killed by the Night King and Rhaegal after, due to his injuries and my desire to return to Dragonstone before he’d healed fully.”

“And the third?” The curly-haired witch asked.

“Drogon. He was the largest and most bonded to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Draco mumbled.

“Don’t be,” she shook her head, “but if you heed one thing from my story, it is that it doesn’t matter whether someone is magical or not, Draco. _All lives have value_. The more powers that are given to people such as you and I, the more responsibility we have to protect those who can’t protect themselves. The non-magical world has moved on in such a capacity over the past seventeen hundred years, that I’m fairly certain I’d not recognize it, nor would I seek to pledge my protection to it—at least not overtly. This world— _our world however_ —I have a sacred obligation to protect.”

He nodded, understanding what Daenerys was trying so desperately to impart to him. 

The fact that she’d lost two of her dragons trying to protect those not like herself was telling, and it made him feel as if he didn’t deserve her.

He’d never willingly sacrificed anything if he could help it.

“I should return to my encampment. I will expect you to bring Mr. Potter to me an hour before midnight.”

“And you truly believe you can help him?” Dumbledore inquired.

“I wouldn’t be making the offer, if I didn’t feel adequate to the task.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

She stood to leave, and he went to stand to follow her, but she stilled his attempt with a subtle shake of her head.

“Rest first and take care of yourself. Come with the Headmaster at the appointed time.”

He sighed, but nodded reluctantly.

“Very well.”

“I will see you soon.”

Everyone watched as the Queen left the infirmary and when she was gone, Harry spoke up.

“Are we really going to trust her to help me?”

“What’s the matter, Potter?” Draco sneered. “You think you’re too good for such consideration? You should thank yourself lucky that Daenerys even wants to help you.”

“Because if it was up to you?”

“I’d let you rot, after what you did to me.” He scoffed hatefully. “ _You almost killed me!”_

“You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy!” Harry growled, as he stepped forwards menacingly.

“ _Enough!”_ Severus growled, giving the Headmaster a scathing look. 

Leave it to Albus to continue to show his Boy Wonder blatant favoritism even after nearly killing his godson.

“Headmaster, perhaps it might be wise to have Mr. Potter and his associates head down for dinner. I don’t expect Madam Pomfrey will appreciate another incident of Mr. Potter deciding to take his self-righteous vigilantism to even more dizzying heights.”

“Now Severus...”

“Don’t!” Snape warned. “You’ve made it _abundantly_ clear you’re not going to expel him, despite him _deserving_ of such an action...” Potter paled, while Draco just sat back next to his Mother feeling rather vindicated at the moment, “however, perhaps you might want to remind yourself that due to Mr. Potter’s actions, and had it not been for my timely arrival? Mr. Malfoy would in all likelihood have perished. Now please convey how you would’ve explained that happenstance to Her Grace?”

Dumbledore’s mouth thinned, as he gave Severus a disapproving scowl. 

He didn’t need his Defense teacher to tell him how precarious Harry’s actions had made things.

If the Malfoy lad had died...he had no doubt the Queen would’ve left Hogwarts, never to return.

“So what would you suggest, Severus?”

“If Mr. Potter continues to refuse and accept responsibility for his actions, then I suggest he be removed from playing Quidditch for the entirety of the school year, as well as forfeit the remainder of his Hogsmeade privileges as well.”

“That’s a bit harsh.” Minerva spoke up, noticing Potter’s face blanch in horror at the thought of being grounded from Quidditch before the season began in earnest.

“He nearly _killed_ a fellow student,” Snape snarled, “but I’m sure since it was just a Slytherin, that it’s of no consequence?”

“I didn’t say that, Severus!” Minerva bit out, but Snape just sneered in retort—not needing to speak any further on the subject as he waited for Albus to make his decision.

The Headmaster pondered over his options and realized he didn’t have much leeway. If Harry didn’t apologize and the stubbornness of the lad was legendary, as was his feud with the Malfoy boy...he would have to intercede for the Greater Good.

Besides, if the Queen was able to remove the horcrux from the boy, and take care of Tom...then Harry’s usefulness was no longer needed.

By the glint in Severus eyes, Albus realized he knew it too.

Turning towards Harry, he sighed reluctantly.

“I’m afraid Severus is _correct_ , Minerva. Regardless of the facts, I cannot condone such actions within the hallways of this school. Mr. Potter will be removed from the Quidditch team for the rest of the school year and will forfeit his captaincy. As for Hogsmeade visits, I will allow Mr. Potter to continue to visit the village, but I will stipulate that he is to receive detention weekly with you until the end of the school year.” He then turned back to Severus with a severe expression and asked, “Sufficient?”

Severus nodded stiffly, giving one final scathing look in the Gryffindor boy’s direction, before billowing out of the infirmary.

He didn’t relish hearing the Potter dunderhead whine and moan on about how unfair his lot was.

At least he’d forced Albus hand to do something to the boy, even if it wasn’t punishment enough as far as he was concerned.

Back in the infirmary, Draco just sat back in smug silence...feeling inordinately pleased with this new development. 

He watched as McGonagall shepherded Potter (who was muttering at how unfair his punishment was), Weasley and Granger out of the hospital wing, while his Mother just sat next to him, her hand firmly placed within his.

The Headmaster turned to face them and sighed heavily.

“I hope you know that I do regret what has transpired, Mr. Malfoy. It does not change the fact that you do carry Tom’s mark upon your arm however.” Draco’s expression morphed instantly as his Occlumency shields came down and his face shuttered. “I do hope that you will take this extraordinary opportunity that’s been given you and not squander it needlessly.”

He didn’t reply, but continued to sit there stoically as he observed Dumbledore staring him down over the rim of his wire spectacles.

Before the Headmaster left, he said shortly, “Lucius has been transferred to a secure wing in Azkaban. There he will remain until Tom has been dealt with.”

He swallowed uncomfortably, and even his Mother seemed surprised.

“How?” Narcissa inquired softly.

“Her Grace requested it of me, and I was able to convince the Minister of the expediency of the situation considering.”

“Will he be let out?” He asked shakily, but Dumbledore didn’t reply. 

He just turned around and headed out of the infirmary, leaving two very stunned people sitting there watching him leave.


	11. The Unburnt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Horcruxes are destroyed.

The evening had well fallen into night as Draco made his way out of the castle and into the courtyard where his godfather was waiting with his Mother, the Headmaster along with Potter, Weasley and Granger.

Couldn’t the fucking _Chosen One_ not go anywhere without his little entourage?

He had decided to dress a bit more casually, but he still looked impeccable in his black robes, cloak—while Potter and his friends were dressed in Muggle jeans, jumpers and hoodies.

His Mum smiled in relief when she saw him coming in her direction, and he wondered if he was the last to arrive.

He still didn’t understand why Weasley and Granger had to be there, and his expression couldn’t be masked at his irritation.

“Leave it be, my Dragon.” His Mother whispered, taking her place at his side.

She could always read him...his emotions—even when he didn’t want her to.

“I believe that is everyone,” Dumbledore nodded succinctly, “shall we head on out?”

The walk to Daenerys encampment seemed to drag, and he stayed towards the back with his Mother, whilst Dumbledore walked with Severus.

Potter kept glancing back at him, as if he suspected that a curse might be coming his way, but he just sneered at the git.

He had no energy to waste on the wanker and maybe if he was lucky, the ritual...or whatever Daenerys had planned would rid the world of Harry Potter once and for all.

When they finally got to their destination, the encampment had changed since the last time he’d been there. The tents were gone and surrounding the clearing were several smallish fires...probably twenty in all. Daario was waiting for them, his eyebrow lifting mockingly at him at first—then settled on his Mother with a quirked grin.

The git seemed more amused by him than anything.

Greyworm and Qhono were standing sentry with the Red Priestess Amari, and Daenerys was no where to be found.

“Welcome.” Daario bowed effusively, “Her Grace regrets she was unable to be here to greet you but we’ve had an unexpected visitor to the camp this evening. She will be here shortly.”

The guard walked away before anyone could get a chance to ask him to explain what he’d meant by his statement.

Draco then waved his wand to check the time...

It was nearly half-past eleven.

Was Daenerys alright?

His worry was short lived however, when she appeared some moments later...dressed in a similar fashion as she’d been during their evening together—and he could see Potter and Weasley’s mouths hanging open at their surprise by Daenerys appearance.

Even his Uncle looked flummoxed.

Dumbledore however, appeared immune to the Queen’s charms, causing Draco to smirk in sudden understanding.

Ah, so that’s how it went?

“Welcome and thank you for your patience.”

Daenerys moved forward into the circle, nodding to the largest of the guards, and Draco watched Qhono disappear.

“Is everything alright, Your Grace?” Dumbledore inquired politely, and she nodded.

“Yes, actually...it is.” Her smile was sly. “I’m sure Daario mentioned, that I had a visitor this evening. It would seem that your Tom Riddle did exactly as I’d thought he might.”

Severus and Albus side-eyed each other, while Narcissa gasped.

“The snake?”

“Is here and detained for the moment.” She admitted easily. “So it would seem we have all the necessary horcruxes except the one attached to you, Mr. Potter.”

“Just how are you going to take it from me?”

She looked over her shoulder and the other woman stepped into the circle, her eyes alight with knowledge and power.

“I am Amari. A _loyal servant_ of the Lord of Light. I will be attending My Queen in the removal of the soul shard.”

Harry swallowed nervously, glancing over his shoulder at his two friends, who were watching with worry.

“Okay,” he replied, “what do I need to do?”

“Come step into the circle, Mr. Potter.” Daenerys lifted her hand and gestured to the spot she wanted him in. “If the rest of you could step around the perimeter over there...” she pointed to her left where a small copse of trees were bunched together. “We can get started.”

Everyone moved swiftly, and Draco took his Mother’s arm but his gaze was locked with Daenerys and her small nod let him know she understood his concerns.

Daenerys, Amari and Harry all walked into the center of the circle. Harry stood directly in front of the Queen, his hands bound behind his back by the Priestess with a kind of rope he’d never seen before. Once Potter’s arms were secure...his legs were also bound around the thigh, and then the ankle. Amari took his wand and brought it over to the Headmaster, who nodded his thanks.

Amari then turned to Qhono, who had returned.

“When the transference is completed, you will need to come into the circle and take the boy outside the barrier.”

“Why him?” Ron asked.

“Because he is immune to magic and you are not.” Amari replied, not unkindly before she gestured to Greyworm and Daario.

“ _Maghagon nyke se peldio, se se tolie ra.”_

The two left and after a few moments brought Nagini, who was bound with some kind of cloth over her head, and the moleskin bag with the other horcruxes.

Everyone’s eyes widened at the snake...who was struggling in vain to gain her freedom.

Then there was a rumbling of the underbrush, and Draco’s eyes widened as he noticed all three of Daenerys dragons, moving into position around the other parts of the perimeter.

“Bloody hell.” Ron whispered in awe.

These dragons were so much larger and menacing than anything his brother Charlie had ever worked with in Romania. He grinned when he realized how insanely jealous his big brother was going to be missing this.

Daario and Greyworm set the horcurxes into the direct center of the circle. When Nagini hissed again, the largest of the three dragons grumbled and trilled, and the snake shrank back in obvious fear.

“It’s time.” Amari spoke, her voice heavily accented.

Daenerys nodded and went to stand directly in front of Harry, moving her hands up to cup his head so she could touch his scar from either side with her thumbs.

Then Amari started to chant loudly...

“ _ **Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon.”**_

(We ask the Lord to shine his light, and lead a soul out of darkness.)

“ _ **Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon.”**_

(We beg the Lord to share his fire, and light a candle that has gone out.)

“ _ **Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson.”**_

(From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life.)

Everyone watched stunned, as Amari finished the last word—the fires around the camp burst higher, the flames that had were barely a foot, were now reaching over ten feet high. 

Everyone stepped back in fear as Amari kept chanting the same phrases over and over again.

Draco kept his eyes firmly glued on Daenerys, so he wasn’t watching Potter’s body thrashing. Oddly, it looked to the others as if the Queen’s touch, was the only thing keeping Potter upright.

_Then he saw it..._

The piece of the Dark Lord’s soul crying out as it was forcibly removed from Potter’s scar.

He heard the snake hiss again, but his complete focus was on Daenerys. As the darkness left Potter, he collapsed to the ground—and he barely registered Qhono moving into the circle and taking the Gryffindor’s body, while the darkness floated towards Daenerys—and then settled over her like a cloying specter.

Amari continued to chant as she moved further away, while her magic kept the horcrux where it was...

...and then they all heard the Dark Lord’s voice speak.

“ _Fools...you, who think you can defeat me? You will die for your perfidy. You are weak. You are nothing.”_

Draco shivered at the loud hissing sounds coming from the dark mist, and he could tell it was taking all of Daenerys strength to keep the horcrux focused solely on her.

Once Amari was out of the circle, he saw Daenerys eyes open and lock with his briefly, before she bellowed out the word, “ _ **Dracarys.”**_

In that split second, before he took his next breath—all three dragons roared up and let loose a stream of dragonfire right where Dany was standing.

His scream of “ _no!”_ rent throughout the clearing, and his Mother desperately grabbed ahold of him—before he was stopped in place by magic.

Scowling over at his godfather, Severus shook his head in warning.

His focus then went back to the scene before him as one by one, the horcruxes fell.

The Dark Lord’s cries were terrible...piercing... _soul shattering._

When the snake hissed out its last breath as it too, dissolved...he heaved a sigh of relief at the fact that he’d never have to see that monstrosity again.

The final horcrux, the one that had been taken from Potter—fought valiantly for survival, only to finally be destroyed.

When the flames fell, everyone gasped as Daenerys was still there...unharmed, but nude and crumpled to the ground.

Draco pulled on his magical bindings, trying desperately to free himself—when suddenly, with a magic he didn’t know he’d possessed, found himself at Daenerys feet...wrapping her in his cloak and pulling her up into his arms.

She was unconscious, but alive and otherwise appeared to be alright.

“Incredible.” Dumbledore mused to no one, and he glowered at the old wizard—carefully lifting his Queen into his body, stood and demanded to be taken to Daenerys tent.

Daario smirked at him, but showed him the way, his Mother following closely, and leaving the rest of their group to fend for themselves.


	12. Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prophecies are funny things.

The next ninety minutes seemed to drag on endlessly as Draco waited for Daenerys to wake up.

He had been utterly awed by the strength of her magic, her courage and her determination. Watching over her now, as she laid prone on her soft bed, covered with his cloak—he knew that he’d follow Daenerys for the rest of his days and beyond.

She was everything he could possibly want...

And whilst he wasn’t in love with her _yet_...he knew it was only a matter of time before he fell...

His Mother sat there with him, her gaze knowing as he gently ran a tender hand through Daenerys hair and down towards her cheek, trying his level best to soothe his frazzled nerves before she woke up.

“ _She’s extraordinary.”_ His Mother murmured, and he hummed in agreement, because it was the truth.

His Queen was all that and so much more.

“I never thought in a million years that I’d ever find someone like her.”

He could feel his Mother’s gaze, but his sole focus was on Daenerys.

“Has she indicated as such?”

“ _Yes_.” He answered immediately, knowing what his Mum was asking.

At her sharp intake of breath, his gaze lifted and he quirked a smile at the shocked expression on his Mother’s face.

“You seem surprised.”

“I suppose I am,” Narcissa admitted, “I had wondered when you spoke of her before in your writings, but I think there was a part of me that couldn’t allow myself to believe such a thing might be possible.”

“Why?”

“Because at the time I was considering it? I had believed Her Grace to be a distant descendent of the Targaryen line, as you are—not the actual living embodiment of the direct royal line.”

“It’s hard to imagine living for as long as she has,” he confessed quietly. “To have survived for nearly two millennia, to wait all that time?” He shook his head in wonder, still amazed by the fact the Daenerys was so old and she’d waited 500 years for him.

“And this is what you want?” His Mother asked tenderly and he nodded.

“Without a doubt.”

His grey eyes and expression were clearly resolved, as he considered his mother, and she sighed in understanding.

“Your Father...”

“Will be _thrilled_.” He finished with a snort. “Don’t kid yourself, Mum. Father told me once when I was a young boy of the rumors that the Malfoy line hailed from the Targaryens. To have it confirmed? Salazar! He will be _beyond_ thrilled.”

Narcissa chuckled and nodded. “I believe you’re right.” Her expression then fell as she was quiet for a few minutes then said sadly, “He’s still in Azkaban.”

“No, he’s _not_.”

A deep voice spoke from behind them, and both of them turned to see Lucius standing there in the open doorway of the tent—looking a bit haggard...but dressed in his wizarding robes.

Narcissa jumped up from her seat and rushed to her husband, enveloping him within her embrace and Draco smirked at his Father.

For all his proper Pureblood upbringing, it didn’t stop Lucius from lifting his wife into his arms and returning her affections without reservation.

When the moment passed, and his Mother had been set to rights—Draco asked the question that needed to be addressed...

“How did you get out of Azkaban?”

Lucius moved forward into the tent, his eyes flitting to the woman laid out on the bed...a gleam of something entered his gaze before he turned his attention back to his son.

“It would seem that Her Grace made a deal with Dumbledore.”

“Which was?” Narcissa demanded.

“That if she was able to destroy the Dark Lord’s horcruxes, that Dumbledore would advocate with the Minister for my freedom.”

He gaped in astonishment before he turned his attention back to Daenerys, gripping her hand gently within his...kissing her knuckles in gratitude.

“She did it for _me_.” He murmured softly, not caring to see his parents shocked expressions. The only person right now he cared about, was currently laying unconscious next to him. “I told her I just wanted you both safe.”

He felt his Father’s hand grip his shoulder, and all the pent up anxiety that he’d held inside for months, bled out of him with a single exhalation.

“I couldn’t believe it when the Minister came to me himself and told me of her.”

“It’s hard to fathom, I know.”

Lucius observed his son, as he continued to caress the Queen’s hands every few seconds...his expression filled with awe and tenderness.

“So it’s true?”

Draco glanced up at his Father and nodded. “It is. _She has chosen me.”_

Lucius smirked proudly for a moment, before his expression returned to his normally stoic resolve.

“Severus briefly mentioned a few things about Her Grace’s feelings on Magical Purity.”

Draco sighed heavily, not sure how his Father would take what he knew as truth. By the look on his Mother’s face...he could see that she was wondering the same thing.

“I think that’s a conversation you might need to have with her,” he declared matter-of-factly, “I’ve come to understand Daenerys feelings, and I agree with her, Father.”

“I do believe Her Grace understands far more than we could ever hope to, Luc,” Narcissa pleaded, “I don’t know if Severus informed you completely or not, but she _is_ the Targaryen Queen.”

Silver-blue eyes widened as Lucius stared down at the woman laying on the bed.

Her beauty _defied_ description, her hair white as snow...

...her power tangible even in her unconscious state and he whispered in reverence, “How can that be? She’d have to be _at least.._.”

“1700 years old.” He finished for his Father.

“ _Merlin!” Lucius_ breathed out as he sat down, rubbing both hands down his face, his body shaking. “So it’s true, about our heritage?”

“Yes,” Draco smirked smugly, “Daenerys confirmed it. The Malfoy’s are directly descended from her elder brother, Viserys.”

“And she’s here now, because?”

He shrugged. “I do not know all of it but I suspect based on what she’s shared, that our future son will be _Azor Ahai,_ reborn.”

Both his parents stared at him, their faces registering complete and utter disbelief.

“That is _not_ possible.”

“Yet it _is_.”

A throaty feminine voice spoke from the bed, and three sets of eyes immediately turned to the sound.

Daenerys made eye contact with Draco’s father, and was surprised that the Headmaster had fulfilled his promise so quickly—although she didn’t know exactly how long she’d been unconscious for.

“How much time was I under?”

Draco kissed the back of her hand again, before whispering, “About two hours.”

She smiled briefly, before turning her attention back to the elder Malfoy.

“You are Lucius Malfoy.”

“I am, Your Grace. And I’d be remiss in my gratitude if I didn’t immediately thank you for advocating on my behalf.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you need anything?” Draco inquired softly, and Daenerys nodded.

“I need a few moments of privacy to make myself more presentable. Then we will talk more.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgment, following his parents outside the tent and back to the grove where he could see Minister Scrimgeour, Auror Shacklebolt and Auror Tonks...his cousin. Potter and his friends were gone...the boy wonder had been taken back to the infirmary, according to Severus.

“I see you’ve found your family.”

The Minister for Magic addressed Lucius, who just tilted his head in concession.

“How is Her Grace?” Dumbledore asked politely, and Draco could feel his hackles rising, but his Mother just placed a soothing hand on his arm to calm him.

“She is awake and making herself presentable.” Narcissa replied.

There was about ten minutes of awkward silence before Daenerys came out of her tent, followed by the Red Priestess and her guard, who had shown up from literally nowhere but always seemed to be hovering close by, ready to strike at a moments notice.

Draco smiled as Daenerys walked towards him and he held out a hand, which she took without hesitation...causing a few startled looks amongst their new guests.

“Won’t you introduce me, Albus?”

The Headmaster bowed and gestured to the Minister.

“Your Grace, this is Rufus Scrimgeour...Minister for Magic of Great Britain. To his left is Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and to his right is Auror Nymphadora Tonks.”

Draco smirked at his cousin’s bristling, apparently not happy about being formally addressed.

“It is lovely to meet you all.”

The Minister bowed formally, his expression appreciative and a bit leering—causing him to pull Daenerys a bit closer to his side.

She found this amusing, as she glanced up at him with a slight upturn to her lips.

“Rufus, this is Her Grace...Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.”

“I must admit, when Albus shared with me of your existence and willingness to help, I was both surprised and skeptical.”

“I wouldn’t imagine you couldn’t be anything but.”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s not everyday that one discovers the old stories of the great Magical Houses are real.”

“No, I don’t imagine it is,” she admitted, “but we do have a pressing problem that needs to be dealt with swiftly.”

“What do you mean?” The Minister demanded.

“This Tom Riddle... _knows_ that his soul shards have been destroyed. We must act quickly if we do not wish him to try and secure another.”

“And how would you suggest we go forward, Your Grace?”

This question came from Albus, but everyone seemed equally interested in the answer.

Daenerys turned to Snape and said succinctly, “You will return to Malfoy Manor immediately. Tell this Tom Riddle that you overhead Albus speaking with the Potter lad about finding the item that was stored here at the castle. Tell Riddle you didn’t hear what the specific item was. He will know that his snake has not returned. Have him call a meeting with his followers.”

“And what will you do?”

She turned to Lucius.

“You control the wards at your ancestral home?”

“Yes, Your Grace but the Dark Lord is powerful enough to break through them.”

“Is there any possible way to prevent him from leaving the property once everyone arrives?”

“I believe I can help with that.” Albus offered kindly, his blue eyes twinkling.

“And this floo? Can that be shut down?”

“The floo is rather easy to lock down,” Lucius admitted, “apparition and portkey travel could only be stopped by anti-apparition wards.”

“The Dark Lord can fly.” Severus lamented with a sigh. “So as long as he has his wand, you may find it more difficult then you know to keep him contained.”

Daenerys glanced over at her three warriors with a sinister smile.

“ _Ānogar ānograro, eman iā gaomilaksir syt ao.”_

All three men bowed deeply, ready to serve.

“ _Kesā jikagon lēda bisa vala, se gūrogon bisa zōbrie āeksio hae aōhon. Gūrogon zȳhon tāemītsos, maghagon zirȳla naejot nyke rȳ se paktot jēda.”_

She then turned back to Severus and said, “You will take my guard through the floo to Malfoy Manor. Is there a good place for them to go where they won’t be seen?”

Lucius nodded. “The kitchens is one place. The elves run that part of the house. In fact...Tinker...”

A small elf popped into the clearing with a bow. “Master! You ares free!”

Lucius went to speak, but his wife gripped his arm and shook her head subtly—causing him to halt whatever caustic response he was about to give to the elf.

“Hello, Tinker.”

“Mistress!”

“Tinker, we need to know? Is the Dark Lord at the Manor?”

“He is. He is with Missy Bella. He has been screaming and rantings for over an hours.”

“Tinker? Do you see these three men?”

The elf tuned his big blue eyes on Daario, Greyworm and Qhono and nodded.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” Narcissa’s voice was kinder than Draco had ever heard it when dealing with the House Elves. “Master and I need you to take these three men into the Manor, preferably someplace where no one can find them. My private study might be a good place.”

“No one goes there?” Daenerys asked.

“No. It’s warded for myself only, and it’s the one place in the Manor no one ventures.”

The three warriors nodded.

“How long will it take after he’s been made aware, to raise the sentry and have his followers amassed?”

“About two hours.”

“Very well,” she gazed down at the elf and smiled sweetly. “Have Tinker come back here in exactly two hours and retrieve my guard.”

“And what will you be doing, Your Grace?”

She smiled widely and made a few noises out into the night.

It was barely a moment later the ground rumbled and Lucius eyes widened, (as did the Minister, Tonks and Kingsley)...as the largest dragon that they’d ever seen, moved into the edge of the clearing.

“Come along, Draco.”

“My Queen?”

“You do know the way to your home from here, do you not?”

“But won’t someone see us?”

She looked up into the sky. “It’s a new moon and my dragons cannot be tracked by any means both man or magical. So _no_ , I’m not especially worried.”

“But, I’ve never ridden a dragon, I mean? _I don’t know how?”_

“No one knows how, until they ride a dragon.”

“And if...”

“ **Come**.” Her voice was commanding as she reached for his hand, which he didn’t hesitate as he took it. 

They both made their way together towards the edge of the encampment.

When they’d reached the dragon that was clearly Daenerys, it lowered itself to the ground and she gracefully climbed on its back...the beast trilling happily as she petted him lovingly.

“This is Norvos.”

Draco nodded at the black dragon, who’s eyes were watching him with interest.

The second dragon moved out into the clearing.

This one was greenish, and a bit smaller than Norvos.

“That is Lorath.”

He swallowed when the dragon lowered its snout and sniffed him.

But whatever he’d sensed, he seemed to like—for he too, lowered his body much in the same way Norvos had done and allowed him to climb on.

The third dragon...the smallest of the three but still much larger than any dragon he had ever seen, was watching them closely.

“That is Lyr.”

“Does he not like to have a rider?”

She smiled wistfully. “Lyr has been rather adamant that he is to _wait_ for his rider.”

Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion, before he realized just what Daenerys was implying.

Then he blushed as he blurted out, “ _oh_.”

Her laughter was infectious, and he couldn’t help but grin as he managed to finally get himself situated properly.

“What do I hold onto?”

She shook her head, her expression wry and he had to wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“Just hold onto the protrusions below the head base.”

He grabbed onto the two largest and squeaked out a shocked breath as Lorath immediately vaulted up into the sky.

Daenerys chuckled before she too, leant down and took her normal position, feeling Norvos launching into the sky and following after his brother.

As she watched Draco on Lorath, her heart felt a sense of nostalgia and sadness washing over her.

It had been a very long time since she’d ridden with another—Jon Snow being the last time. Rhaegal had taken to him immediately and she should’ve known the real reason at that time—but she’d been blind in her love for Jon, that she’d ignored the warning signs.

_Until it was too late._

It had been over a thousand years ago that she’d finally come to terms with the mistakes she’d made during her quest to rule the seven kingdoms. She hadn’t wanted to reign with blood and fire...hadn’t wanted to be like her Father. And for all her belief in herself, and her birthright...she’d forgotten who she really was— _deep down inside._

Losing Drogo and their child had been horrible, but she hadn’t had time to grieve.

Watching Viserys die had been both a relief and a sadness.

Losing Jorah had broken her heart.

Varys betrayal had been unexpected to a degree, but Jon’s had broken her soul.

Losing Missandei had been like losing a sister, but losing Viserion and Rhaegal had _destroyed_ her.

She could feel Drogon’s anguish too, as he’d relished in the burning of those he’d felt responsible for his brother’s deaths.

And the truth was, she had too.

She had wanted the world to burn, and it had taken nearly 700 years for her to come to understand and accept that she’d made the wrong choice all those years ago.

The Lord of Light had brought her back and when he’d done so, she had remembered the words that she’d spoken to Jon all those years prior about not believing in any Gods...but only in herself.

How arrogant she’d been.

How _ignorant_.

How selfish.

Now she had a chance to have back what was taken from her.

She had spent years lamenting the words of the witch who’d killed her husband and child...

“ _ **When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.”**_

The first part had seemed to be fairly simple and straightforward at the time, but the Lord of Light had shown her the truth of those words...

The west had referred to the Western lands of where she was now...currently, and the East was her homeland of Essos and Old Valyria. Her body had been taken back to the East by Drogon, and the Lord of Light had fulfilled that part of the Prophecy when he’d allowed her to return to the land of the living. It had taken her 1700 years to return to the lands of Westros, now Great Britain. Her life and the Targaryen name would once again rise in the West, and be known again all amongst those within the magical world.

She had fulfilled that part of the Prophecy by returning here.

_When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves..._

That one had been fairly simple to interpret. The lands of Westros had changed much over the last two millennia. Bodies of water that were once flowing and free, were now barren wastelands while Mountains had whittled and shaped into rolling hills and fertile land spaces.

She didn’t even recognize much of the topography of the land she’d once sought to conquer.

Even the Northern lands of Winterfell had fallen away from the world.

The last part of the Prophecy however?

She had mistakenly assumed it was about Drogo, but it had _never_ been about him.

It had in fact, been about the Prince who was Promised.

Her future son.

_Azor Ahai._

He alone would bring balance back to the world of magic. Restore the greatness of House Targaryen and bring peace between magicals and not.

It was her legacy, and her life’s mission would only be allowed to end, if she accomplished this one missive for the Lord of Light.

She would finally have her son along with another chance to rule with love and hope and maybe... _just maybe_...have the love that had been so cruelly denied her not once...but _twice_.

As she followed Draco towards his ancestral home, she felt cautious hope for the first time in centuries. The culmination of her life’s mission was within her grasp, waiting to be claimed...and she was determined to have what was denied her all those years ago.

Her faith would see her through, as it _always_ had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Valyrian translations are:
> 
> Blood of my blood, I have a duty for you.
> 
> You will go find this man, this Dark Lord and take his stick and bring him to me when the time comes.


	13. Dark Lord No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Lord gets his comeuppance.

The Dark Lord was furious!

He’d been woken up from a sound sleep feeling as if his entire body was on fire. The sensation and subsequent realization of what might’ve caused such a phenomena wasn’t entirely lost on him, but he simply couldn’t afford to believe that all his horcruxes had been destroyed.

Nagini hadn’t returned, but that wasn’t too concerning as he’d taken her into Hogsmeade that evening and told her to wait until the right time to attack this Dragon Queen.

His familiar was clever and due to his protection, it was unlikely that she’d been harmed but that hadn’t meant the other horcruxes were safe.

Bella, in her ever hovering nature...was following him around the Manor like a pesky insect he couldn’t get rid of.

He appreciated her bloodthirsty nature, and she was carrying his child but beyond that he held no affection for the witch.

“My Lord?”

A voice spoke up hesitantly from outside the drawing room, where he’d just killed another Muggle that had been brought up to him from the Malfoy dungeons.

“What?” He hissed threateningly, turning and noticed Walden McNair standing there.

“Severus has come through the floo. He says he needs to speak with you most urgently.”

Voldemort waved his follower off, before he cast several scourgify’s in succession, cleaning the ghastly sight of stench and blood from the floor. Normally he’d revel in such things, but he didn’t seem to have the wherewithal to indulge himself properly at present.

He sat down in his usual spot, and waited for his trusted follower to arrive.

It was about a minute later Severus billowed in, his normally stoic expression unmoved as he bowed in front of him.

“What is it Severusss?”

“I am sorry to bother you so late, My Lord, but something of a concerning nature has reached my ears.”

He waved his hand, not in the mood for formal niceties.

“I overheard a conversation earlier this evening between Albus and the Potter brat. Apparently, the Headmaster had the boy and his entourage of Gryffindor lackeys scouring the Room of Requirement.”

He leant forward with a malevolent gleam in his eye.

“Did you _hear_ what they were looking for?”

“No, My Lord but your name _was_ mentioned.”

He stood and paced for a bit, as he pondered this unwelcome piece of news.

“Have you discovered any other information that might be helpful, Severus?”

The wizard paused, and when the Dark Lord turned to face him, the Potions Master sighed in exasperation.

“I do not know if it’s worth mentioning.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Of course, My Lord.” Snape bowed in contrition. “I did hear in the same conversation that Queen Daenerys was spotted in Diagon Alley earlier today. I do believe she might’ve spoken with one or more of your followers, but I can’t be sure of the particulars.”

Voldemort’s snake-like lips pulled back into a feral snarl.

“Then perhaps we need to call a meeting?”

“If you think that is wise, My Lord?”

“I do.”

Lifting his cloak off his forearm, he pressed his wand down into the head of the snake, and within several minutes...the drawing room was filled with his followers...some thirty in all.

There was McNair, Rowle, the Carrows, Goyle Sr., Selwyn, Bellatrix, Pettigrew, Yaxley, Flint, Burke, Bulstrode, Greyback and many others.

The group took their normal places around the long table where he was sitting at the head, and once everyone was placed...He went to speak.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get a word out before three individuals, moved like quicksilver into the room, the largest of which...grabbed him around the throat and literally picked him up from the chair...snarling as he forcibly slammed his body into the wall.

The other two had weapons of some kind, and Bellatrix reacted instantly, throwing an _Avada_ the smallest of the three while the Carrows hit the third man with _crucios_.

But when the spells collided with the men, nothing happened.

They were still alive, standing as before with their weapons brandished.

“ _Drop your wands now, or die.”_ Daario demanded with a cold smile.

“Who are you!?” Bellatrix screamed.

“I am Daario, loyal guard of Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. You will either surrender your wands, or die here and now. Your _puny_ magic has no power over us.”

Bellatrix took out her cursed blade and hurled it at the man, who deflected it with a casual swipe of his sword.

“Try that again, woman, and I will _cut your throat where you stand._ ”

Daario’s gaze moved to each of the people in the room, who looked like they’d finally figured out that they couldn’t use magic and couldn’t escape.

The Headmaster had placed some kind of magical dome within the wards of the property and the owner of the home had his elves shut down the fireplaces.

Then suddenly from the corner of his eye, a large man with a mottled face lunged for him and Daario arced his sword with lethal precision, and cut the creatures head off.

He’d been warned about the werewolf.

“My Queen wishes to speak with your Tom Riddle. If you all would give your wands to my friend here,” gesturing to Greyworm, “you may get them back if Her Grace feels so inclined.”

“I am _not_ giving you my wand!” Bellatrix screamed, unhinged.

He rolled his eyes and tilted his chin in the mad woman’s direction, so Greyworm went over and pinched her neck, knocking her out instantly.

“Anyone else?”

One by one, each Death Eater handed over their wands and followed Qhono outside to the large open lawns and down near the small lake. Voldemort’s wand was firmly in Qhono’s hand, and when they’d reached the edge of the property, where a set of small fires were burning—everyone stopped cold at the woman standing there dressed in regal robes, her dragon sigil draped over her breast, her hair white as snow.

“Please, come forward.”

She gestured politely, seeing Daario carrying a woman in his arms who was heavy with child. The rest of the Death Eaters made a semi circle around the perimeter while Daario set the woman down on the ground, and then he and Greyworm took up their places behind the group.

Then several more people joined their little get together.

Albus came forward with the Minister, many Aurors, and other notable magical people from within their Ministry.

She watched as the Death Eaters hissed, but the stern ‘ _quiet_ ’ from Daario had everyone biting their tongues.

Qhono threw Tom Riddle down at her feet, and his red eyes glared at her promising death—but she just chuckled.

“So, _you’re_ the one who’s decided to take it upon yourself to not only try and cheat death—but to enslave, torture and murder?”

Voldemort stood up, lifting his head unapologetically.

“How _unimaginative_.” Daenerys mocked, her hands folded perfectly in front of her, as she silently moved forward, her eyes assessing the snake-like person before addressing the larger group.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of my Name. _The Unburnt. Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea...breaker of chains, and Mother of Dragons.”_

There were a few mocking laughs, but many of those there just stood there stunned.

“I have come to offer you a _choice_ this night. To bend the knee and join my cause. A solemn vow of protection for all creatures, both human and not whom have been gifted by the Lord of Light with Magic. For some of you, this may go _against_ what you’ve been taught, but know this now? Your feeble magic is not the beginning of the journey, nor is it the pinnacle. So much more can be had, if you lead and teach with acceptance. Join your banner to mine, and we can make this world a better place.”

“And why should we?”

A man sneered towards the back, and she turned to seek out the voice.

“Speak your name and come forward.”

The man, one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters did just that.

“Amycus Carrow. And I want to know why you think that mudbloods and muggles should be treated as anything but the _filth_ that they are?”

She moved gracefully towards the man and tilted her head up at him with interest, before her gaze roamed the rest of the crowd.

“Do many of you feel the way this gentleman does?”

There were murmurs of assent, and she just sighed before she addressed the man called Amycus.

“How old are you?”

The wizard’s expression morphed from anger to confusion as he replied, “I am thirty-eight.”

“And you feel certain that you know all there is to know about Magic, in your learned thirty-eight years of life?”

Amycus smirked condescendingly, but didn’t reply and was surprised when the Queen chuckled at him and shook her head in amusement.

“How old do you believe me to be, Amycus?”

“Not more than twenty.”

”I see.” Her smile was now a bit sinister, waving for the man to step back, which he did. “I suppose it might come as a surprise to some, but perhaps not to all who are aware of the Old Magical Houses—but I am over _seventeen hundred years old.”_

The group fell silent, until Voldemort hissed, “That is not possible!”

She turned around in the lowlight and said firmly, “ _And yet it is.”_

She then moved past each one of the Death Eaters and stopped at the final one.

“Corban Morvean Yaxley. Member of the Sacred 28 and last of your House. You pledged your name to Tom Riddle at the age of twenty at your own Father’s insistence. Your mother was a kind woman, but died when you were nearly eight years of age from a blood curse, and as you watched her die and witnessed your Father’s light dim, you _vowed_ never to marry.”

Corban’s eyes widened in shock, but he bowed his head at the truth of the Queen’s words.

She then moved to the next Death Eater, Walden McNair.

“Walden Thaddeus McNair, eldest son of your House. Your younger brother Warren and your sister Wilemina are twins. You have cared for them your whole life at the behest of your Father, who died when you were nineteen and left you to care for your family.”

Walden smirked and bowed his head, acknowledging the truth of the Queen’s words.

This went on for a bit, as she shared her knowledge of each of the Death Eaters—until she got back to Amycus.

“Amycus Xavier Carrow,” the wizard’s eyes widened as he felt his sister grip his hand tightly...her own truth given and her acceptance noted. “You have twin girls, Flora and Hestia. Your wife died in childbirth, when the Healers could not stop the hemorrhaging of her womb. You vowed to your wife at the moment before her death to do right by your girls, to protect them from harm and raise them to _respect their magic_ and never forget their mother’s sacrifice.”

Amycus nodded and bowed his head as he held onto his sister’s hand tighter, valiantly trying to hold his emotions in.

Daenerys moved back to the Dark Lord and considered him for a moment before she spoke.

“Tom Riddle. Son of Merope Gaunt. Your mother gave your Father a love potion, coerced him into impregnating her and died giving birth to you. You _killed_ your Father, Tom Riddle Sr. and paternal grandparents and framed your Uncle, Morfin Gaunt for the deed. You unleashed a basilisk into your school during your sixth year, killing a young girl.”

“Enough!” He hissed, but she wasn’t done.

“Your fear of death led you to create not one...but _seven horcurxes!”_

The elevated hissing sounds from behind him weren’t a surprise, but she just smiled serenely and then said, “ _I have destroyed them all.”_

“That’s _not_ possible!” He shouted.

“But it is.”

She moved back down to where there were two iron pillars filled with fire and she placed her hands directly into each, and watched impassively as the collective group held its breath. When she removed them, and held them up...she was unsurprised by the looks of clear astonishment on the faces of those she could see.

“I will give you this chance to bend the knee and join my banner.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then you will _die_.”

A groan from the ground sounded and she looked down to see the woman with black curly hair trying to stand up, which she did after a moment.

She took her in, as the woman turned around and stared in horror at the scene before her.

She then moved quickly over to Voldemort and whispered pleadingly, “My Lord?”

She gripped his robes, but he just pushed her aside hard and watched her body crumple back onto the frigid ground.

Daenerys gaze narrowed.

“Is this _how_ you would treat the mother of your unborn child?”

The shouts from many of those present were clearly shocked by the admission.

“Do not speak!” Bellatrix shrieked, but she just shook her head sadly, gazing down at the woman’s womb.

“Bellatrix Cassiopeia Lestrange, eldest daughter of Cygnus Arcturus Black and Druella Philomena Rosier. You believed yourself barren for many years, unable to conceive a child with your husband Rodolphus. Knowing this, your husband allowed this concession and you became with child,” she paused and then finished emotively, “and I am very sorry.”

“For what?”

“The loss of your child.”

“What!?” Bellatrix shouted as she grabbed her womb, desperately feeling for the life that was growing inside of her. When no one said anything, she cried out, “You are _lying_!”

“I have lost a child once, and no...I am not lying.”

The silence was deafening, and then Narcissa moved out of the shadows from where she’d been standing with Lucius waiting...and Bella’s eyes widened at seeing her younger sister.

“Tell them, Cissy! Tell them it’s a lie!”

Moving carefully as if she was approaching a wild animal, Narcissa knelt down took her sister’s hand—saying soothingly, “I can check. Do you trust me?”

Bella nodded, so Narcissa lifted her wand and ran a diagnostic spell, the images floating above the womb...

But there was no heartbeat.

_None at all._

Bella collapsed into her sister and cried out in agony, while the Dark Lord just chuckled—clearly uncaring either way about the loss of his child, nor Bellatrix’s agony.

The Queen glared and gestured at him as she addressed the others there...

“Is this the kind of wizard you would _choose_ to follow? One who has _no respect for life?_ One who would sacrifice each and every one of you for his own selfish benefit? Who has no capacity for love in his heart, that he can not even mourn the loss of his own flesh and blood? Is this the magic you would choose to lead you?”

The Dark Lord hissed in anger, and Bella laid whimpering on the ground in tears.

Daenerys decided to take pity on the woman, and she came over and knelt in front of her.

“I can take this pain from you. If you are willing?”

Bellatrix whimpered again, her darkened eyes pleading.

“You cannot give her back to me?”

“Even my magic has limits, Bellatrix Black. But I would spare you the horror of giving birth to a stillborn child. I have lived that nightmare and can spare you that fate.”

Bella’s eyes locked with her sister’s, and Narcissa smiled softly and nodded.

“Yes.”

Daenerys placed her hands on the woman’s womb and started to chant.

“ _ **Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon bisa riña se tepagon ziry lyks. Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon bisa riña se tepagon ziry lyks. Āeksiot Ōño, gūrogon bisa riña se tepagon ziry lyks.”**_

When the words finished thrice, the entirety of those present bore witness as they saw Bellatrix’s womb—return to normal and the spirit of the child was released to the Lord of Light.

Tears flew down Bella’s cheeks before she gripped the Queen’s hand tightly, “Thank you.”

Placing her hand on Bella’s head, Daenerys replied softly, “You are welcome.”

As she stood, she turned again to face the self-proclaimed Dark Lord one last time.

“Will you bend the knee?”

“I bow to no one.” He growled out with venom.

“Very well.”

She moved back in between the middle of the fires, facing the witches and wizards present, staring down the snake-like man and then the crowd gasped as one...as the head of the largest Dragon they’d ever seen, moved out from the darkness and hovered over the Queen’s head.

Voldemort violently flinched back, and then Daenerys said firmly...

“Tom Riddle, I Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of my Name...breaker of chains and Mother of Dragons...sentence you to die.”

There was a brief pause before she finished emotionlessly, “ _ **Dracarys**_.”

Norvos rumbled, moving up to his full height, leaning over his Mother and then opened his mouth, bellowing a plume of dragonfire onto Voldemort, his screams dying a quick death as he was turned completely to ash almost instantly...his corporeal body unable to withstand the blistering heat.

As she gazed out into the crowd, the smoke cleared, and she immediately noticed one by one—each witch and wizard bowing down before her.

Even her Queen’s guard followed suit, and Daario had a mischievous grin on his face.

Then Draco moved out of the darkness with his Father, and both men walked right in front of her and bowed in submission.

She glided forward and lifted Draco’s head with her hands, cupping his cheeks and smiling widely.

“Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy—Heir of my brother Viserys Targaryen, Eighth of his Name...here and now...pledge your banner to mine? Do you vow to stand beside me, rule with me....with acceptance, with devotion, with _love?”_

He gripped her hands and nodded, ignoring the startled sounds of those behind him as he said clearly, “I do so vow to do.”

“So mote it be.”

The force of their combined magic rippled outward, as all present felt its power move throughout the grounds of Malfoy Manor and the grates that surrounded the Manor immediately lit up as one...giving a warm glow to the grounds of Draco’s ancestral home.

And the dragons roared in triumph.

Draco stood up and kissed his Queen, knowing instinctively that they’d just bonded their lives together.

He may only be sixteen now, but he wasn’t a complete dunderhead.

Because there was no fucking way he was _ever_ letting Daenerys go.


	14. Bonded by Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Daenerys officially begin their lives together.

Graduation from Hogwarts had finally come, and for Draco—well, he was pacing in the Slytherin Common Room in front of the hearth while his friends watched on with amusement.

The Head Boy had graduated second in his class, right behind the Head Girl—who had edged him out by half a percentage point.

The Draco Malfoy of two years ago would’ve ranted, raved and called Hermione Granger all kinds of foul, disgusting names, but now?

He couldn’t be bothered.

_He was just anxious to see his wife._

After their bonding at his ancestral home, Daenerys had taken him aside and reminded him that whilst they might be bonded, she didn’t want to force the physical side of their relationship any further than necessary.

When he’d asked her why, she’d explained simply that magical contraception didn’t work for her, and was he ready to potentially be a Father at sixteen?

He had blushed, mumbled and shuffled his feet in embarrassment—but eventually agreed to wait.

Now that he was done with his NEWTS, there would be no more waiting and he was eager to see his love.

She had spent the better part of the past eighteen months with his Father, her guard and two of her dragons—visiting every Magical Ministry across the globe.

Her message clear: _That all magic had value and each part of the whole needed to work together to survive._

She’d met some resistance in Bulgaria, Russia and oddly enough, the States...where their mindset didn’t tend to allow for the idea of a singular ruler.

But Daenerys had reassured them all, that she wasn’t there to rule with an iron fist, but with experience and patience.

The fact that she’d lived for so long was a testament to her wisdom.

No one who’d spent any amount of time with her walked away not believing in her goodness and her vision for a better world.

Small changes were already being implemented. Muggleborns were being offered a place in their society much sooner and in some cases, when their magic expressed. Daenerys didn’t understand the rationale of having children flailing aimlessly and Muggle parents left in the dark of understanding and acceptance. Children of all blood were tested for magical aptitude and squibs were give a place in society to help guide the Muggleborns and their families towards transitioning into the Magical World.

They taught traditions, explained history and acted as a liaison of sorts, so no one felt left behind.

Hogwarts had done away with Muggle Studies and replaced it with a Muggle History class, which was taught in conjunction with Magical History. Each year went over a certain period of time and discussed the relevant events that took place in _both_ worlds.

It was by far, a better way to learn and Draco had often wondered if he’d had the chance to be taught in such a fashion, if it would’ve changed his views on blood purity sooner.

He’d seen Daenerys a few times over the past year. Usually when he was home for the holidays. They would spend time with his parents, and then spend time alone.

Their alone time was always the best parts of his time away from Hogwarts.

Lorath had taken to staying in the Forbidden Forest with him, while Lyr and Norvos went with their mother. He and his dragon had bonded quite strongly, but Lorath was very particular and wouldn’t let anyone but Dany or himself get near him anymore.

Even his wife’s guards were barely tolerated.

After the Dark Lord’s fall, the remaining Death Eaters were tried and judged fairly. His Aunt Bella, due to her propensity towards insanity, was given treatment by a mind healer at Daenerys insistence. When Potter had ranted and raved at how she’d killed his Godfather, Dany had chastised the wizard and reminded him sternly that Sirius hadn’t had a fair trial, and did he believe it was fair just because of his own prejudices, to condemn another?

Potter had grumbled, as had the Weasley’s and Augusta Longbottom but ultimately, their murmurings had died down.

Dolohov, the Lestranges, Mulciber, Rookwood and Jugson had chosen to accept death rather than conform to the new world order and they were burned by Dany’s dragon.

She seemed reluctant but not surprised they’d chosen the path of death, but to her credit...she never relished in taking life and saw it as a potential lost.

The rest of the Dark Lord’s followers had made it their mission to take his Queen’s words to heart and had all become loyal servants and of those, Walden McNair and Thorfinn Rowle had been given a special place amongst her guard and ironically he and Thorfinn...whom had never been a friend despite being a Slytherin...they had grown rather close.

Rowle had become his own personal shadow.

Which he’d been teased about endlessly.

“You okay, mate?”

Blaise grinned, but he just scowled at him, adjusting his formal robes for the eleventh time in the past twenty minutes.

“I’m fine.”

“ _Bullshite_.” Theo laughed. “You look as if you’re about crawl out of your skin.”

He went to smooth down his cravat, and then stopped himself with a grimace.

“Fine,” he lamented, “I’m not nervous though. I’m just anxious.”

“How long has it been?”

He sighed, knowing _exactly_ what Theo was asking.

“It’s been 74 days, six hours and 25 minutes.”

“Fucking Salazar,” Blaise guffawed, “someone needs to get laid.”

“Shut it, mate.” He growled, then started pacing again.

“We should probably head down for the feast.” Theo offered, casting another _tempus_ to check the time.

Everyone stood and moved out of the Slytherin common room and walked through the dungeons, until they found themselves nearing the Great Hall.

A few sharp intakes of breath caused Draco to lift his gaze, and that was when he saw her.

His face broke out into a wide grin as he sauntered over to his wife, who was talking to the Head Girl and by the look on Granger’s face, she seemed to be pleased with whatever Daenerys was saying.

Granger caught his eye and nodded, and when Dany turned around—her expression softened noticeably.

“Hello, my love.” He wrapped a possessive arm around his wife’s waist, and kissed her temple in greeting.

“Draco.”

Dany’s voice was as cultured as ever, but only he could hear the relief in her tone as she whispered out his name.

“Granger.”

“Malfoy.”

“I suppose I should offer my congratulations at getting the top spot in our year.”

“I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He smirked and then shook his head.

His banter with Granger this past year had lacked the utter loathing of their previous years, but it still had the same bite it always had. He didn’t care for the swot and likely never would, but he’d learned to respect her intelligence, even if he found her self-righteousness a bit much.

“No worries, Granger. I’m tougher than you.”

“In your dreams, Malfoy.”

“I hate to break it to you, swot, but the only person in my dreams is my _gorgeous_ wife. Shouldn’t you be finding your boyfriend right about now? Where is Potter anyway?”

Hermione sighed. “He’s inside with Remus and the Weasleys.”

“I must say, I would’ve bet good galleons on you and Weasley being together by the end of school.”

“Ron?” Hermione shivered in disgust and shook her head. “That was _never_ going to happen.”

He chuckled, and gave Daenerys a wink.

“Well, we will leave you to your family and friends.”

Granger nodded and headed inside, leaving him alone for the moment with the one person he’d most wanted to see.

“Well, that’s progress.” Daenerys quipped in amusement.

He ignored the barb and pulled Daenerys along with him down the corridor, until he found an empty alcove and maneuvered her inside, claiming her lips with his in a bruising kiss.

She didn’t hesitate for a second, clutching her hands onto his shoulders and opening her mouth to his onslaught.

For a few moments, the two reacquainted themselves and then he pulled away with an unhappy groan.

“Not here.” He whispered before planting another swift kiss on his wife’s lips.

“No, you’re right.” She sighed. “You have a feast and graduation to attend. I am here in an official capacity.”

“Oh?” His smirk was now borderline sinful. “Does that mean you’re going to officially corrupt me later?”

“Would you approve of such?”

“Most definitely.”

She ran a hand through her husband’s locks and sighed.

“Draco, are you _truly_ ready?”

“For a family with you?”

She nodded, and he just smiled.

“It’s not exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself if you’d asked me two years ago but, love? I can’t wait anymore. Not being with you?” _He leant down and kissed her neck under her ear in the one place that made her shiver with desire._ “Not being able to bury myself inside you?” _Another kiss and a small breathy moan for his troubles caused him to grin slyly._ “Tell me you haven’t imagined it too?”

“I _have_.”

Her husky voice caused his cock to stand to attention, and he groaned out in pained pleasure.

“Merlin, wife!” He nipped at her neck one final time as he pulled back and tried to get his body’s traitorous reactions to calm. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t joke about that.” Her reply was pleading, and he shushed her, silently apologizing for his thoughtlessness.

Over the past eighteen months, he and Dany had shared many things, but none more important than the circumstances of her husband Drogo’s death and that of their child...and her subsequent relationship with her nephew...Jon Snow.

Draco didn’t understand how someone could claim to love Daenerys, and take her life.

It made no sense to him at all.

“Sorry, love.”

She smoothed his robes down and quirked an eyebrow.

“The new moon is next week.”

“Okay?” He replied, confused at the strange segue.

“It’s time to go _home_ , Draco.”

“What?”

She smiled. “Dragonstone. I want to take you home to Dragonstone.”

His eyes widened in shock, then he cupped Dany’s cheeks reverently.

“You’re _serious?”_

“I am.” She admitted. “It is only accessible on the new moon, as the stars guide the path to the portal were we can enter. I know I should’ve asked sooner, but...”

“No..no...it’s totally fine. I’m just stunned is all.”

“Good stunned?”

“The best kind, love.”

They smiled adoringly at each other and then he sighed in resignation before pulling his wife out of their hiding place and immediately running into his Uncle.

“Your Grace...Draco? Don’t you both have elsewhere to be?”

“Severus,” Daenerys smirked, “How is it that you can make me feel as if I’m twelve again?”

“It’s a talent, Your Grace.”

They watched Severus head for the Great Hall, his robes billowing behind him with all the flair of a dungeon bat.

“That wizard is one of a kind.”

“That he is.” He agreed easily, curling Dany’s arm within his and escorting his wife into the Great Hall.

All eyes were on them as they entered, and he brought Daenerys to her seat next to the Headmaster, pulling her chair out and leaving her with a wink and a kiss on the back of her knuckles. Her responding smile was only for him. He nodded once to Dumbledore, and left to take a seat back at the Slytherin table with his friends.

The feast was festive, speeches made by the Headmaster and the Minister for Magic, who had come a bit late to the party.

And soon, it was time to take the boats back across the Black Lake one final time.

When he disembarked on the other side, Daenerys was waiting for him and as he waved goodbye to his friends, all he could think about was getting his wife alone, undressed and underneath him.

“Where are we going?” He glanced around confused, as Daenerys led him over to a carriage that was waiting.

“I’m hoping you don’t mind, but I have a nice, quiet spot set up for us in the Forest. Norvos, Lorath and Lyr are waiting.”

“Lead the way, My Queen.”

Daenerys did just that and eventually they ended back up at her original encampment where they’d just started to learn of each other back during his sixth year.

She led him to her tent and removed his outer robes with a pleased expression on her face and he watched his wife with his own smirk of satisfaction, not wanting to rush this moment but eager to feel and taste every part of her he could.

Over the past year, and in particular last summer—the two of them had spent much time learning about each other and Draco had been amazed that for all of Daenerys experience, there were still a few things that he was lucky enough to be the first to introduce her to.

Apparently some men back in the olden times didn’t necessarily take to giving as much as they were concerned with receiving.

It was a smug moment for him when he’d first gone down on his wife, her eyes wide with confusion and then closed in ecstasy as he’d brought her to her peak several times in succession. Her stormy eyes, so much like his own had gazed up at him in wonder watching him as he’d licked her essence off his lips with relish.

Then she’d kissed him with abandon and the pleased smile she’d had on her face for days afterwards, had two of her three guards giving him rather strange looks.

Greyworm however, had actually cracked—not a smile—but his face had broken out into something foreign—clapping him on the shoulder, causing the other two guards to follow Greyworm around for days trying to pry information.

He’d just smirked at them in that infuriating way that he was wont to do, and enjoyed their joint expressions of confusion.

From Daario especially.

Once he was undressed, he returned the favor—taking his time kissing every part of Daenerys perfect skin that was revealed to him. As he moved from worshipping the front of her to sliding around her back, the evidence of his arousal was prominently aching— pushed against his wife’s delectable backside.

He nipped repeatedly under her ear in that spot that always had her writhing with pleasure, cupping her breasts and squeezing them with purpose—causing her to throw her head back on his shoulder, her moans coming out more frequently.

“Draco.”

Her voice was throaty, as she placed her hands over his own and stilled his movements.

“What’s wrong, my love?” His voice laced with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, but I need you to trust me? Can you do that?”

He immediately turned her around and cupped his wife’s face within his hands, giving her a simple nod.

“You know I trust you.”

Her smile was radiant. 

She took his left hand and led him out of the tent, both of them completely starkers as they made their way into a small glade about two hundreds metres away where a circle of bonfires were lit around the perimeter. There was a blanket on the ground as well as a few smaller fires interspersed equidistant in a smaller circle within the whole.

“What’s this?”

“I asked you to trust me and I need you to just go with what you feel. There can be no hesitation between us this night—not if we are to fully bond.”

He looked around again and noticed Norvos, Lorath and Lyr all in the treeline, watching them.

“ _Jorrāelagon..._ ”

He used the Valyrian word for ‘ _love_ ’ only when he and Daenerys were alone together. It was his pet name for her and she had loved it from the first time he’d used it.

Greyworm was helping him learn to speak bits and pieces of High Valyrian.

“You know I trust you as I’ve never trusted another, but I need to understand a bit more, if that’s alright.”

Dany sighed, but nodded....before she led him to the blanketed area and they sat down, her body cocooned between his legs with his arms wrapped protectively around her.

The area was warm, the evening rather balmy for Scotland this time of year.

He could feel Daenerys nerves, and he whispered lovingly to her, “Just tell me. I promise it will be okay.”

After a few more moments of silence, she eventually spoke.

“I told you about Drogo, my husband and our child but I didn’t tell you all of it.”

“Alright.”

He waited patiently, as he figured whatever this was about—it had to be important to make Daenerys fret so.

“I was pregnant with Drogo’s and mine son. He was the “ _Zhey vezh fin khal ki_ ,” the stallion who mounts the world. Drogo died, but it was _how_ he died that I never shared with you. It wasn’t in a great battle, but by poison. When he couldn’t be healed, I went to a witch for help—but she required a life sacrifice. I mistakenly thought it to be a horse, but it was my child. I was left barren, but before I had her bound to the pyre from which my dragons were born, she gave a final Prophecy.”

His breath caught, before he asked quietly, “And that was?”

“ ** _When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.”_**

As he sat there listening to his wife, he thought about the words spoken so long ago and he had to admit...he wasn’t sure what it all meant.

“So explain.”

And she did.

Daenerys told him what had been revealed to her by the Lord of Light, and how the Prophecy was a portent of Azor Ahai’s rebirth as her son.

“So, if I’m understanding you, and I think I am?” He paused, “This was why you came back now...back to Westros...or what was once known as the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “the way of rebirth is fire. I am the dragon, but you are too.”

At that moment the dragons rumbled and his steely gaze roved over each one, their large eyes watching him.

_Waiting for something._

It was another moment before he finally realized just what Dany was telling him.

“I think I understand.”

Her gaze lifted from over her shoulder and she eyed him intently.

“And you trust me?”

He smiled then nipped her shoulder.

“ _Implicitly_.”

Lorath trilled, causing them both to chuckle.

He gently turned her into his embrace and cupped her cheek reverently before lowering his lips to hers.

And then time ceased to have meaning as their bodies took over and before he knew it, his mate was lowering herself, welcoming him inside her warm heat and moving against him as if they’d done this a thousand times.

And he was _wrecked_.

His whole body quivered in pleasure. He lifted his chest flush with Dany’s, and their bodies fused as close as two people could get. As he felt his orgasm approaching, he gripped the back of his wife’s head and kissed her fiercely, and at the moment of their mutual release, he felt something irrevocably change between them.

His eyes were closed, every nerve of his body was on fire as he moaned out her name, and when it was done...

He opened his eyes and saw the beautiful blue-grey of his angel staring back at him.

He was so lost in her gaze he didn’t immediately notice that the ground around them was scorched, nor that the blanket that had been underneath them was now burnt to ash.

“Merlin!” He whispered in awe, realizing just what had happened.

Their dragons were chuffing, trilling and snorting happily as they laid down surrounding them.

His attention was brought back to Daenerys, she was kissing along his neck and he chuckled.

“That was...”

“Perfect.” She replied with a contented sigh, clinging to him.

Then he felt his wife’s body shaking and he pulled back slightly, shocked—noticing tears streaming down her face.

“Love?”

“I’m fine,” her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were alight with happiness as she considered him, “it’s just hard for me to fathom that I’ve finally reached the other side of my journey.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just kept gently placing soothing kisses on his wife’s lips, cheeks, eyelids and shoulders...keeping her close, even as she silently cried in his arms. When he looked up, he noticed that Norvos had moved behind them and encircled them both within his large wings—his head was down on the ground.

Lorath and Lyr were in front of them both, enclosing them within a tight circle...the fires long since gone out.

It was a bit before Dany calmed sufficiently so that he could disengage long enough to stand and move them back to their tent cradling her in his arms. The rest of their night was spent making love, while the Hogwarts elves left food and drink for them.

By the morning, as the sun moved stealthily over the clearing—he awoke to his beautiful wife snuggled safely within his arms. He instinctively pulled her even tighter within his embrace...not wanting a single, solitary sliver of space between them.

Her contented sigh made him smile softly and he couldn’t help himself—he ran his hands gently but insistently all over his wife’s body.

“Good morning.”

Her voice was husky, half-lidded with sleep and he couldn’t help but feel in that moment, that he was the luckiest fuck ever to grace the universe.

“Yes it is,” he drawled deeply, kissing down Daenerys neck, “a _very_ good morning indeed.”

“We probably should at some point, contact your parents and let them know of our plans. Do you think they will wish to venture with us?”

He guffawed loudly, as he felt Daenerys rolling over within his embrace and then noticed she was eyeing him with amusement.

“ _Ñuha jorrāelagon,_ ” He gripped her hips and smiled widely, “you are having a go at me, right? Of course Father is going to be thrilled with the prospect.”

“And Narcissa?”

“She will be intrigued, I’m sure.”

Daenerys bit her lip in contemplation.

“I was thinking about something.”

“And?”

“Well, if we are to stay on Dragonstone and I’d prefer it as would Norvos, Lyr and Lorath for obvious reasons—it might be prudent to see about engaging the services of some of these House Elves.”

He lifted up his head in his hand, rolling to his side so he could gaze down at his wife.

“Just how many elves were you thinking?”

“I don’t know exactly. How many elves do you have at the Manor. I’m fairly certain I haven’t met them all.”

“No, you most certainly haven’t.” He mused, pondering the question. “I think we have at least a dozen.”

“Well, the keep at Dragonstone is at least eight times the size of Malfoy Manor.”

“Excuse me?”

He sat up in shock.

“Eight times as large?”

“Yes—it was built by my ancestors as an intermediary outpost between Valyria and Westros. It was large enough to hold my forces, nearly 70,000 strong plus three dragons.”

“Salazar!” He whispered, utterly dumbfounded. “We may need a bit more than a dozen elves, love.”

“I want to make sure they are willing to serve freely, Draco. I do respect the bonds between House Elves and magical beings, but I believe many of your associates take unfair advantage of that bond.”

“Now you sound like Granger.”

Dany smacked his chest playfully, causing him to grin.

“She is an intelligent woman, Draco. You may not like her more proletariat background, but she has a good mind and a keen eye for fairness and equality.”

He just gaped down at his wife in dismay.

“Merlin! Please don’t tell me you’re actually going to have that swot working directly with us?”

Sitting up, she sighed in exasperation at her husband.

“I thought you both were getting along better this past year at school. You did have to work with her often, correct?”

“Yes!” He lamented. “But that doesn’t mean I want to continue to have to work with her now that I’m free of her incessant chattering!”

Dany threw her head back and laughed.

“You really don’t like her at all?”

“Love, she’s _annoying_!”

His voice came out as a petulant whine, causing his wife to smile even wider.

“Sometimes I forget you’re only eighteen.”

“Versus 1700?”

“Don’t start,” her lips pursed in mock annoyance, “technically, my body’s age is about twenty-four.”

He just laughed and shook his head, not buying it for a second.

“Nice try, love.”

“Your unconscionable sometimes.”

“And yet you love me.”

Her sigh was wistful, but she nodded all the same.

“I _do_ love you.”

“I love you as well.”

Draco pulled Daenerys into him and kissed her breathless for a bit before he rolled her underneath him and then started to work his way south—down her body, listening to his wife’s breathing stutter as he got closer to his preferred destination.

When his tongue moved out to taste Dany’s sweetness, her sigh of bliss warmed his heart as did her hands gripping his hair, as she guided his ministrations.

“I’ve _missed_ this.”

His heart burst at the confession, because in truth—he’d missed her too.

More than he’d ever missed anything in his life.

The last two months had been utter torture.

“Me too, love.”

Daenerys gaze locked with his and her eyes were filled with unbridled lust as he continued to bring her to her peak again and again...and again.

If there was such a thing as a perfect moment in time, he was fairly certain he was currently living it.

And he thanked the Gods silently over and over again, for his good fortune.


	15. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds perfection and so much more besides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who took the time to read and even a bigger thank you to those who left a kudo or comment!

“ _Viserys Draconis!”_

The white-haired young boy giggled as he ran down the steps and out to the open grasslands that covered the cliffs of Dragonstone, his Grandmother yelling his name again—followed closely from behind by Qhono and Daario.

Fortunately, the little miscreant didn’t get too far out on the cliffs before Lyr swooped down and planted his large body in front of his human—clearly happy to see him as he trilled and chuffed...nudging Viserys back with his snout.

The youngest Targaryen grabbed his dragon and giggled again, gently patting his face and babbling a mixture of Valyrian and the common tongue, while Lyr just huffed and allowed the concession.

When Narcissa finally reached him, Viserys grinned toothily.

“Nana! Dis my dragon!”

“Yes, my love.”

Narcissa smiled softly, while her three year old grandson continued to pet Lyr. The dragon amazingly, was already fully bonded with Viserys, and although the boy was too young to ride yet—she knew it was only a matter of time before her own dragon would be teaching his son to fly.

“But you must not run off like that.”

Lyr trilled and nudged Viserys again, and not for the first time she wondered just how intelligent these dragons were. Lyr knew her well enough, and tolerated her around Viserys, but she suspected if the dragon believed anyone was a threat to her grandson, Lyr would have no problem ending their existence.

“Thank you, Lyr.”

The dragon chuffed and nudged the young lad one more time, causing him to pout.

“But I don wanna go back inside!”

“You need to get ready for your mid-day meal,” she replied firmly. “Perhaps, when your parents are done with their meeting, you can persuade your father to bring you back outside after your nap?”

Viserys scrunched up his nose like he wanted to throw a tantrum, but Lyr made a few sounds and instantly the boy calmed enough that she was able to approach him and take him within her arms.

Lyr watched her closely and she smiled and bowed her head at the large beast.

She had learned fairly early on that the dragons, while not exactly tolerant of anyone who didn’t have Targaryen blood...were much like hippogriffs, in that they were very proud magical creatures.

Lyr trilled again and watched her walk away with his human, before taking to the skies to join his brothers.

They had visitors on Dragonstone this day, and it was their job to protect the borders and their family.

In the throne room, Daenerys was sitting down in her rightful place with her husband to her right and her Father-in-Law to her left. The Ministers from Great Britain, Russia, Australia and Japan were visiting today...each with concerns over what she had tasked for them.

“I do not comprehend your reluctance in this regard,” Daenerys shook her head, “it will only serve to benefit your people as time passes.”

“But, My Queen,” Rufus Scrimgeour lamented, “Muggle technology has never been able to track magic.”

“Minister, whilst I might have agreed with that sentiment fifty years ago—mundane technology is reaching critical levels heretofore unseen. You must prepare _now_ for the safety of our people and your reluctance and that of your counterparts will ultimately expose our society to the very people we wish to remain separate from.”

“And you have foreseen this?” The Russian Minister asked.

She stood up and clasped her hands together—her posture regal as she descended the steps of her throne and moved towards the fire grate next to Draco. Greyworm, who was standing guard nearby, was ever at the ready to protect his Queen should he be needed.

Draco watched his wife stand next to the fire, and stare into the flames. Her expression was placid, but he could feel the tension emanating from her soul.

Since their bonding, he could feel his wife’s emotions more and more as time progressed.

And he knew she was particularly concerned about the visions in the flames the Lord of Light had given her not too long ago.

“The mundanes have created the ability to use objects in space to communicate, to track movements. But more than that, they have found a way to communicate instantly from one part of the globe to the next using invisible conduits that generate pictures. These images, are ever changing. In time, they will become so advanced that magic as we know it, will no longer be enough to hide us from them.”

Her gaze lifted from the flames and she sighed.

“How long do we have, My Queen?” The Australian Minister inquired.

“A generation, perhaps two.”

All the Ministers faces paled.

“That is the reason I have called you here. You each have tremendous political sway within the larger magical communities. Minister Chemerov, I will require you to work with the eastern Ministries, China and India in particular to facilitate their help. In my visions, I have foreseen that the mundanes will seek these communities out to build their technologies going forward. If we are to be successful, we will need them onside.”

“Why not go to them directly, My Queen?”

“Because you have been trying for some time to negotiate a more equitable trade with both Ministries, yes?”

Chemerov nodded.

“Then this should help that along, should it not?”

The Russian chuckled, and gave Lord Malfoy a knowing look.

He’d initially been quite skeptical of the Dragon Queen but over these past several years, he’d come to respect her foresight and her wisdom.

She was also quite cunning and ruthless when motivated.

“Rufus, you will need to work your own magic with the Americans. President Quahog can be brought to understand the importance of this, if you mention that it will see to his re-election for the foreseeable decade.”

Scrimgeour laughed and nodded, fully aware of Quahog’s propensity for liking his power a little too much.

“Also tell him if he doesn’t agree to work with you, he can just as easily find himself replaced with someone who _will._ ”

Rufus bowed, murmuring, “Of course, My Queen.”

She then turned to the Australian Minister for Magic.

A witch named Annabelle Morrigan.

“Minister Morrigan, it is my understanding that you attended Castelobruxo.”

“Yes, My Queen.”

“So your relations with the Ministries in the southern regions of the America’s are fairly established?”

Annabelle nodded.

“Then please discuss this with them. The mundanes in Africa and the Southern America’s will be the last to conform to existing technologies, but they must be prepared. I will eventually reach out to the African Magical tribes in time, but these are the priorities and need to be dealt with immediately.”

“Of course.”

“Minister Nagaki, I would greatly appreciate you speaking with the smaller magical enclaves in Malaysia, Indonesia and Singapore. Get them to agree to help and explain the importance of us acting now.”

The Japanese Minister bowed formally in acquiescence, and the four Ministers said their goodbyes and left, following Greyworm to the floo room that had been set up on Dragonstone and could only be accessed by strict invitation.

If anyone tried to use the floo to enter the keep uninvited—they’d find themselves burned alive.

Once they were gone, Draco moved over and enveloped his wife into his side, kissing her temple in reassurance.

“You needn’t worry, love. I’m sure they will follow through.”

“I’m not worried persay,” she admitted with a sigh, “I am just constantly reminded at how much the world has changed in the past two millennia.”

Lucius chuckled. “I think you’re doing a remarkable job, my dear. I don’t imagine that I would’ve believed that the magical communities could unite under a single purpose without bloodshed and yet, here we are.”

She just shook her head at her Father-in-Law, and was about to respond when she heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet heading towards the throne room.

Her face broke out into a wide smile as her little Prince came running inside the throne room with his Grandmother at his heels.

“ _Muña!”_

“ _Rytsas ñuha dārilaros.”_ She kissed his cheek in greeting, lifting him securely within her embrace, while Viserys arms wrapped around her neck. “ _Skoros emagon ao issare bē naejot?”_

“ _Istan naejot ūndegon Lyr, Yn nana vestās ēdan naejot māzigon iemnȳ.”_

Dany was always amazed at how well Viserys spoke Valyrian. It came to him far easier than the common tongue, which her husband lamented constantly, since his Valyrian was still rather rudimentary, despite spending copious amounts of time with Greyworm.

“Nana is correct,” she gently chastised her little one, “it is time for your mid-day meal and then a nap.”

“But...”

“Listen to your Mother, Viserys.” Lucius voice was deep and firm, causing his grandson to look over at him with his big blue-grey eyes.

“Yes, Papa.”

Lucius smirked and immediately walked over holding his arms out, to which Viserys reached for him instinctively and this engendered a knowing grin between Draco and his wife.

Draco had never known his Father to be anything but strict and uncompromising, but with Viserys?

Lucius Malfoy had mellowed into a bit of a soft touch.

“Come, let us find Baela, and see if she has your lunch ready.”

“O-Kay.”

Narcissa followed her husband and grandson out of the throne room and down to the dining area, while Draco and Daenerys watched them leave.

“He’s growing too fast.” She sighed and he just wrapped a supportive arm around his wife’s waist and nodded.

“They do that, love.”

“It seems like it was only yesterday we returned here, and now Viserys will be turning four next week,” Her eyes caught and held her husband’s, “he asked for a broom for his birthday. Please tell me you didn’t put the idea into his head?”

“Me?” He scoffed, inwardly laughing at how irritated his lovely bride looked at the prospect. “They do have training brooms, love.”

“That _isn’t_ helping, Draco.”

“Yes, dear.”

He lifted her face to his and pecked a sweet kiss on her lips, which earned him an incredulous look.

“You can’t distract me with your charms, either.”

“Can’t blame a man for trying.”

He led them both into the antechamber off the throne room, which was empty save the two of them. The original table that once showed the map of all of Westros, had been replaced with a more modern version—but the original did have a place of honor in the library of the castle where the scholars were located.

The day that Daenerys had brought him home, was the day he realized that despite what he’d imagined Dragonstone to be—it was so much more majestic than anything he could’ve conjured in a thousand lifetimes. The castle itself was imposing from a distance but up close?

It had been gargantuan in scope.

The iron work was impressive, the dragon sculptures truly magnificent but it had been the throne room that had caused his heart to race. He knew of course, that his wife had been born to be a Queen...but to see the width and breath of what her world had been before her ‘ _death_ ’—it had been too heartbreaking to imagine.

His Father had been speechless, while his Mother had just done her level best to help Dany make the castle more livable for their family. Since their bonding, he was able to perform magic at Dragonstone...as was his Father and Mother. Together, they had set up the floo wards, found the elves to staff the Keep and once his Father had seen the Ancient library filled with old Valyrian history, he had convinced Dany to make the scrolls and texts available to a select set of scholars so that the priceless information could be disseminated and shared.

Daenerys had painstakingly interviewed several of the most notable magical historians and eventually formed a small group of six. These individuals were from all magical backgrounds, fairly adept at linguistics and were willing to live at the Keep with their families.

Thorfinn Rowle, who already knew some basic Valyrian—was tasked to spearhead the endeavor, and his own Father was also part of the group of scholars. There was also a witch from France, one from Morocco, and two other wizards from Italy and another from Greece.

Walden McNair worked closely with Daario, Qhono and Greyworm—training an elite force of wizards and witches in magical and hand to hand combat. This special guard traveled with the Queen, as well as guarded the castle and its inhabitants.

Hermione Granger was given a position as the Queen’s special liaison—working with all the Ministries in regards to equality for all magical creatures. She had become so well-known for her efforts, that her own fame was beginning to eclipse her new husband’s.

Harry Potter joined the Ministry’s Auror ranks, and was working his way up the ladder slowly. His temper had cooled since he’d gotten married, and Draco had seen him a handful of times at the Ministry.

The git was stiff, but polite.

Dumbledore had passed away a little over a year ago to a dark curse he’d sustained when he’d destroyed one of Riddle’s horcruxes. Minerva McGonagall had taken over the Headmistress position, and Severus had been made Deputy Headmaster—much to his chagrin.

His Aunt Bellatrix, was still being treated by mind healers but her overall disposition had improved greatly. The Dementors once removed from Azkaban, had helped those incarcerated retain most of their mental faculties, but for some—like Theo’s Father? 

They were never the same again.

Gazing out to the sea, he held Dany close to him and felt a sense of peace pervading his bones. He couldn’t imagine his life being any more blessed than it had been for these past few years.

“What are you thinking?” Daenerys asked quietly.

He gazed down at his wife, who was looking up at him like he hung the stars and he smiled.

“I was thinking that my life is fairly perfect.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps then, I might persuade you to rethink your definition of perfection?”

He lifted an eyebrow in confusion, while his wife took his left hand and placed it over her lower abdomen, causing his confusion to fade to wonder.

“ _Are you?”_

She nodded. “I am.”

He dropped to his knees and cupped Daenerys belly reverently, kissing it several times and smiling when he felt her hands run through his hair.

When he gazed up at her, tears were flowing down her cheeks and he grinned.

“I was wrong.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” he sighed happily, “my life is so much better than perfect, _Jorrāelagon_. I don’t know how to thank you for waiting for me.”

“You’ll never need to thank me, _Vēzos qēlossās ñuho_ —you’ve given me all I’ve ever dreamt of having, and so much more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some feedback as I am interested to know what you all think. I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks that Daenerys got a raw deal during the last season of GOT.


End file.
